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An ecclesiastical biography
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ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY,
CONTAINING THE
fttbea of %lncitnt jFatfjera an& f&o&ern Efomes,
INTERSPERSED WITH NOTICES OF
HERETICS AND SCHISMATICS,
FORMING
A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE CHURCH IN EVERY AGE.
BY
WALTER FARQUHAR HOOK, D.D.
VICAR OF LEEDS.
VOL. IL.
LONDON :
P. AND j. rivington;
PARKER, OXFORD J J. AND J. J. DEIGHTON, CAMBRIDGE
T. HARRISON, LEEDS.
1846
LEEDS : G. CRAWSHAW, PRINTER.
PREFACE.
This Work will be continued in Monthly Parts,
and be ready, as before, for delivery with the maga-
zines. It is considered by many desirable to receive
the work in Parts, as it enables them, without
difficulty, to read it through, and so to obtain an
acquaintance with Ecclesiastical History, as well as
with the character and principles of our chief Saints
and Divines. Arrangements have been made to pub-
lish each future Part so as to render it complete in
itself; that is to say, any biography which is com-
menced will be given entire, although the average
•number of pages (60) be exceeded, a proportionate
deduction being made from the number of pages in
the succeeding Part. The price is fixed as low as
possible, and unless there were many subscribers to
the work, it could not be maintained.
PREFACE.
It was stated in the former volume that, although
the work is alphabetic ally arranged, a table would be
given, so that it might be read chronologically ; and
although the two first letters of the alphabet are not
yet completed, the reader will perceive from the
following table, that if he reads the Lives chrono-
logically, he will have already a history of the
Church, or of some considerable portion of it, in
almost every century. Only those names are inserted
in this table which belong to personages more or less
engaged in the public transactions of their age.
TABLE.
CENTURY
III.
CENTURY VIII.
St Anthony.
Alcuin.
St Alban.
CENTURY X.
CENTURY
IV.
(Elfric.
St Athanasius.
St Ambrose.
CENTURY XI.
St Augustine.
St Basil.
Arius.
Aldred.
Anselm.
Aerius
Aetius.
CENTURY XII.
Apolinarius.
St Bernard.
Arsenius.
Alexander of Blois
Basil of Ancyra.
Baldwin.
CENTURY
Y.
Barri.
Becket.
St Benedict.
Breuys.
CENTURY
VI.
Abelard.
Arnold of Brescia.
Augustine of Canterbury.
CENTURY
VII.
CENTURY XIII.
Adrian.
Albertus Magnus
Aidan.
Thomas Aquinas
Aldhelm.
Agnelli.
Bede.
Boniface of Canterbury
Benedict Biscop
Bonaventure.
TABLE.
CENTURY XIV.
Andreae.
Arundel.
Arminius.
Bradwarden.
Barlow.
Biddle.
Ailly.
Brown.
CENTURY XV.
CENTURY XVII
Beaufort, Cardinal.
Bancroft.
Bo-urcher.
Andrewes.
Adrian de Castello.
Abbot.
Aleander.
Alleine.
Bassarion.
Allestree.
Ambrose.
CENTURY XVI.
Arnauld.
Beaton.
Asheton.
Beccold.
Baronius.
Beza.
Barrow
Bilney.
Barwick.
Bonner.
Basire
Bourn.
Baxter.
Bale.
CENTURY XVII
Aylmer.
Alan.
Atterbury.
Baro.
Bedell.
Barnes.
Berkeley.
Adamson.
Beveridge.
Agricola.
Bossuet.
Ainsworth.
Blackburne.
Alley.
Blackwell.
Alsop.
Alexander.
Anderson.
Badcock.
ECCLESIASTICAL BIOGRAPHY
Basil, Saint. Saint Basil the great was born at
Csesarea, in Cappadocia, about the year 329. His parents
were person s of rank and wealth, distinguished yet more
by their Christian virtues, who had fled to the wilds of
Pontus, during the Maximinian persecution. His grand-
father on the mother's side had received the crown of
martyrdom. His father, whose profession was that of
rhetoric, was named Basil, and his mother's name was
Emmelia Under them he received a Christian education,
but he expresses himself as peculiarly indebted for the
formation of his mind, to his grandmother Macrina. In
writing to the Church of Neocsesarea, in after years, he
says, " what clearer evidence can there be of my faith, than
that I was brought up by my grandmother, blessed
woman, who came from you? I mean the celebrated
Macrina, who taught me the words of the blessed Gregory ;
(Gregory Thaumaturgus ;) which, as far as memory had
preserved down to her day, she cherished herself, while
she fashioned and formed me, being yet a child, upon the
doctrines of piety." And afterwards : "I have many
subjects of self-reproach, but thanks to the grace of God,
I have never given in to any false doctrine, nor varied in
my sentiments ; having always preserved those which my
blessed mother and my grandmother Macrina inspired in
me : these good principles have developed themselves with
my understanding as I have advanced in years, but the
seed was sown in me in my earliest youth, and such as it
VOL. II. A
2 BAS.
was, such has it brought forth.'' It is sometimes said that
the sons of widows generally turn out well : and this is
doubtless because of the many promises of God to the father-
less and widow : but in viewing second causes, we may say
that it is because so much of female tenderness, mixed with
consistent discipline, is brought to bear on the manly
character. No really great man, certainly no good man,
can exist, unless the heart has been cultivated as well as
the intellect ; unless to a powerful understanding be united
an affectionate disposition : aucl of the two, the cultivation
of the heart in man, the encouragement of the more gentle
sympathies and sentiments of our nature, is even more
important than the exercise of the mental faculties ;
though the character cannot be properly formed, unless to
both points attention be directed. This will account for
the fact that almost every man distinguished for a union
of virtue with genius, has been able to trace his excellence
to maternal, or at least to female superintendence in his
education. To this rule, we have seen that St Basil
formed no exception.
St Basil was eminently happy also in his father, who,
when he found him sufficiently grounded in the truth,
sent him, for the further education of his mind, first to
Caesarea, and then to Constantinople. At the former
place he became acquainted with St Gregory Nazianzen,
with whom he renewed his friendship on his removal to
Athens, where they both met again, being sent there, as
we should say, " to complete their education," though in
truth the education of a Christian mind never ceases.
The Christian Church is a school in which we take lessons
in godliness as long as life lasts. The characters of Basil
and of Gregory were so different, that later in life mis-
understandings occurred between them, without, however,
any permanent violation of that friendship which was
founded on a mutual admiration of each other's excel-
lence. But the friendship, it would seem, commenced,
and perhaps was kept up, by Gregory's extreme admiration
of Basil ; although Basil returned Gregory's affection, the
BAS. 3
enthusiasm of friendship was on Gregory's side. It was
in the year 351 that Basil entered the university of
Athens and found Gregory there, ready and anxious to
protect his friend from those little annoyances to which
fresh-men were exposed, but which the sedate disposition
of Basil was likely to resist. St Gregory gives us an
interesting account of the mode of living among the
young men of Athens, and in his funeral oration on the
death of St Basil, he adverts with his usual enthusiasm
to days gone by : " How dear," he says, " is Athens to my
remembrance ! It was there that I learned really to know
Basil. I went there in search of knowledge, and I found
happiness. We soon became every thing to each other ;
the same roof sheltered as the same table served us ; even
the same thoughts occupied our minds. We pursued our
studies with equal ardour ; we each sought success, that
great object of jealousy among men, and yet envy was
unknown between us. We disputed, we argued, not for
the honour of pre-eminence, but for the pleasure of yield-
ing it. It seemed as if our bodies were animated by the
same soul. Our daily occupation was the practice of
virtue : the care of living for our eternal hopes, and that of
detaching ourselves from this world, before we should be
called upon to quit it. Nothing was more noble in our
eyes than the endeavour to exalt each other above material
things, and increase our faith. We estranged ourselves
from such of our fellow students as were irregular in their
conduct or language, and associated only with those whose
conversation might be profitable to us. Our feet were
familiar with only two streets ; one to the church, and to
the holy teachers and doctors who there attended the
service of the altar, aud nourished the flock of Christ with
the food of life ; the other, which we held in less esteem,
to the schools, where we listened to our masters in the
sciences. Spectacles, diversions, and banquets, we aban-
doned to those who were unfortunate enough to take
pleasure in them. The sole business of our existem
4 BAS.
most glorious prerogative in our eyes, was to be called
Christians, and to be such."
In the year 357 Basil left Athens, though strongly
urged and entreated by his fellow-students, and even his
master, to remain longer among them, and hastened,
through Constantinople, to Caesarea, in the hope of seeing
his father, who was dangerously ill. This venerable
parent was dead before his arrival ; and settling at
Ceesarea Basil began to practise at the bar. The success,
and even adulation, which Basil had received at Athens,
had evidently subjected him to a temptation which he
found it the more difficult to overcome when, in his practice
at the bar, a similar success and admiration attended him.
He was beginning to think extravagantly of his own
abilities, and to encourage feelings of vanity, (being indeed
not only eloquent as a speaker, but equally skilled in
languages, science, and literature,) when he found a timely
monitor in his sister Macrina. He had benefited too
much by female instruction in his childhood, to think
scom of woman's advice in his later years ; and the sister
who bore his venerated grandmother's name, succeeded in
her endeavours to awaken him to a sense of his danger.
St Basil, in his 233rd epistle, describes both his feelings
and his course of conduct: "After long time spent in
vanity, and almost the whole of my youth vanishing in the
idle toil of studying that wisdom which God has made
folly, at length, roused as from a deep sleep, I gazed upon
the marvellous light of Gospel truth, and discerned the
unprofitableness of the wisdom taught by the perishing
authorities of this world ; much did I bewail my wretched
life, and pray that guidance would be vouchsafed to me
for an entrance into the doctrines of godliness. And
above all was it a care to me to reform rny heart, which
the long society of the corrupt had perverted. So when I
read the Gospel . and perceived thence that the best start
towards perfection was to sell my goods and share them
with indigent brethren, and altogether to be reckless of
BAS.
this life, and to rid my soul of all sympathy with things
on earth, I earnestly desired to find some brother who had
made the same choice, and who might take the voyage with
me over the brief waves of this life. Many did I find in
Alexandria, many in the rest of Egypt, and in Palestine
in Ccele-Syria and Mesopotamia, whose abstinence and
endurance I admired, and whose constancy in prayer L
was amazed at, how they overcame sleep, being broken by
no natural necessity, bearing ever a high and free spirit
in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, not regarding
the body, nor enduring to spend any thought upon it, but
living as if in flesh not their own ; how they showed in
deed what it is to sojourn in this world ; what it is to
have our conversation in heaven. Admiiing and extolling
the life of these men, who could so in deed carry about
with them the dying of the Lord Jesus, I desired that 1
myself, as far as I could attain, might be an imitator of
them."
In reference to the determination of Basil, to adopt a
monastic kind of life, Mr Newman remarks, " that in the
early ages it was scarcely possible to attain that state of life
which a pious clergyman desires to lead, except in monastic
institutions : but which in our favoured country, where
Christianity has been long established, is, in its substance,
the privilege of ten thousand parsonages up and down the
land /" Who does not wish that the highly-gifted writer
of the passsage just quoted would always thus think and
speak of his holy mother, the venerated church of Eng-
land ; and that, while aware of the disadvantages under
which we labour, he could also see as clearly now, as when
he penned this passage, the many advantages with which
we are blessed ! The course of discipline which is neces-
sary in one age of the Church, may not be expedient in
another, though the principle is in all ages the same, —
the principle of self-discipline and self-denial, for the
edification of our souls in godliness, and the promotion of
God's glory.
The situation which St Basil cho^e for his retreat \^as
BAS.
a desert spot in Pontus. In this retreat he had several
followers, and they passed their time in devotional
exercises, works of charity, and the study of sacred litera-
ture. Gregory would gladly have shared his retreat, but
was retained by sacred duties in the bosom of his family.
In answer to Basil's urgent invitation to join him, Gregory
writes thus :
" I have not, it is true, stood to my word ; having pro-
tested, ever since our friendship and union of heart
at Athens, that I would be your companion, and follow a
strict life wdth you. Yet I act against my wish : duty is
annulled by duty, the duty of friendship by the duty of
filial reverence At the same time, I still shall be
able to perform my promise in a measure, if you will
accept thus much. I will come to you for a time, if, in
turn, you will give me your company here ; thus we shall
be quits in friendly service, while we have all things
common. And thus I shall avoid distressing my parents,
without losing you."
St Basil himself gives an account of his retreat, which,
though Gregory was facetious upon it, and represents some
of its charms as owing their lustre to the brightness of his
friend's imagination, must be substantially correct : "What
we have often delighted to picture in our imaginations, it
is at length granted me to see in reality. I have before
me a high mountain clothed with a thick forest, watered
on the north side by fresh and limpid streams ; at the foot
of this mountain is spread a plain perpetually fertilized by
the waters which fall from the surrounding heights, whilst
the forest, encircling it with trees of every variety, self-
planted, in all the wildness of nature, serves it at once as
a boundary and a defence. The island of Calypso would
appear nothing after it, though Homer admired it, above
all others, for its beauty. The place is divided into
two deep valleys : on one side the river, which precipitates
itself from the j)eak of the mountain, forms a long barrier
in its course, difficult to surmount ; and on the other the
wide ridge of the mountain, which communicates with the
BAS. 7
valley only by a few winding intricate paths, shuts out all
passage, — there is but one means of access, and of that
we are the masters. My dwelling is built on one of the
slopes of the mountain, the extremity of which juts out
like a promontory. From it I survey the opening plain,
and follow the course of the river, more delightful to me
than the Strymon is to the inhabitants of Amphipolis ;
the still and lazy waters of the Strymon, indeed, scarcely
deserve the name of a river : but this, the most rapid I
have ever seen, breaks against the rocks, and, thrown back
again by them, falls headlong into foaming waves, and
precipitates itself into the deep gulph below ; affording at
once a most delightful spectacle, and an abundant supply
of food, for there is an astonishing quantity of fish in its
waters. Shall T speak of the fragrant dews of the earth,
the freshness which exhales from the river? Another
would describe the variety of the flowers, and the songs of
the birds, but to these I have no leisure to pay attention.
What I have to say the best of all of the spot is, that,
along with the abundance of every thing, it affords like-
wise, what is to me the sweetest of all, — and that is.
tranquillity. It is not only far removed from the noise of
cities, but it is not even visited by travellers, except some-
times by a few hunters who come among us ; for we also
have our wild beasts : not the bears and wolves of your
mountains, but troops of stags, herds of wild goats, hares,
and other animals as inoffensive. Pardon me, then, for
having flown to this asylum ; Alcmeon himself stopped
when he came to the islands of the Echinades."
It is not, however, change of place that can immediately
give change of heart ; and Basil, with his characteristic
frankness, acknowledged to Gregory in another letter, that
he found it more difficult to effect this than he had
imagined.
"I recognize," says he, "in the sentiments of your
letter the hand which has traced them, as in looking at a
child, we are reminded of its parents by a family likeness.
You write to me that the place I have chosen for my
BAS.
retreat makes no difference to you : that all you desire is
to know my mode of life, that you may come and join me
in it. Such a thought is every way worthy of one like
yourself, who annexes no importance to the things of this
world, in comparison with the beatitudes which are pro-
mised us in the next. ' How do I pass,' you ask, ' my
days and nights in the retirement in which I am now
living '?' Must I tell you ? Alas ! it will not be without
confusion. I have left cities and their turmoil behind
me. I have renounced every thing in them without
regret, but I have not yet been able to renounce myself.
I compare myself to voyagers who have not got accustomed
to the sea, and to whom the motion of the vessel imparts
the most uncomfortable sensations, because, in quitting
land, they still bring on board with them the bile with
which their stomach was overloaded. This is exactly tin-
state in which I am. As long as ever we carry about with
us the germs of the maladies that torment us, the place
makes no difference : we shall find every where the same
sorrowful results. I will confess to you, then, that I have
not yet experienced any great benefit from my solitude.
What, then, is to be done, and how, then, ought we to
act, in order to follow faithfully in the steps of the Master
who has opened to us the way of salvation, saying, ' If
any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take
up his cross, and follow me.' Thus it is that we must
act ; we must, in the first place, labour to keep our minds
in a calm and uniform consistency. When the eyes are
accustomed to wander about in all directions, it becomes
impossible to fix them on any object so steadfastly as to
consider it under every point of view ; yet we must look
at it earnestly, to make it out entirely. It is the same
with tli;' mind ; when it is divided by the solicitudes of
the world, it cannot concentrate its attention upon the
determinate nature of truth, .... He who is not yet
yoked in the bonds of matrimony, is harassed by frenzied
cravings, and rebellious impulses, and hopeless attach-
ments ; he who has found his mate is encompassed with
BAS. 9
his own tumult of cares : if he is childless, there is desire
of children ; has he children ? anxiety about their educa-
cation, attention to his wife, care of his house, oversight
of his servants, misfortunes in trade, quarrels with his
neighbours, lawsuits, the risks of the merchant, the toil of
the farmer. Each day, as it comes, darkens the soul in
its own way : and night after night takes up the day's
anxieties, and cheats the mind with illusions in accord-
ance. Now one way of escaping all this is separation from
the whole world. What I mean by the expression, separa-
tion from the world, is not merely to remove the body to
a distance from it, but to detach all our affections from
it ; to relinquish country, home, society, business, inter-
ests, human sciences ; absolutely to divorce ourselves
from all, in order that our souls may be entirely at
liberty to receive the impressions the Lord may be pleased
to make upon them. We cannot imprint new characters
upon wrax, till wTe have effaced the old ones : in the same
manner the divine instructions cannot find place in a
heart pre-occupied by all the ideas connected with the
usual affairs of life.
" One of the first benefits to be derived from retirement
is the imposing silence on the disorderly movements of
our own hearts, and affording the calm to reason, that is
necessary to enable us to conquer our passions, which,
like ferocious beasts, are only to be subjugated by being
bowed under the yoke. Let us, then, suppose a solitude
such as the desert in which I now am, far from the com-
merce of mankind, where the pious exercises of a religious
life, being uninterrupted by outward things, afford con-
tinual nourishment to the soul. Can you imagine a
felicity more desirable than that of imitating on earth
that life which the angels lead in heaven ? To commence
the day with prayers and sacred melodies, which bring us
into immediate communication with our Creator; con-
tinuing it by the same exercises, mingling with our labour
the holy songs which give it its sweetest relish, and diffuse
such delicious consolations over the soul as constantly to
10 BAS.
keep it in a state of ravishing serenity ? It is by this
majestic equilibrium in the movements of the soul, that
we are purified : by not permitting the tongue to indulge
in idle conversation ; the eyes to dwell on the vain glory
of mere outward things ; the ears to introduce to the soul
any thing of effeminancy or frivolity, mere mundane
music, or the heartless jests of trifling minds.
" The soul, secured by these precautions from exterior
diversion, and the attacks of the senses, retires within
itself, and elevates its own nature to the contemplation of
the Deity. Enlightened by the rays which shine forth
from His divine essence, it rises above its own weakness ;
freed from temporal cares, corporeal necessities, and affec-
tions of earth, it devotes all its powers to the search after
immortal good, and makes its sole occupation to consist
in the practice of temperance, prudence, fortitude, justice,
— in a word, of all the virtues that compose the code of
Christian morality.
" The surest way to understand thoroughly all that is
required of us, is to meditate upon the Holy Scriptures,
which bring before our eyes at once the precepts necessary
for the direction of our conduct, and the examples of virtue
best calculated to serve us as models. Hence, in whatever
respect each one feels himself deficient, devoting himself
to this imitation, he finds, as from some dispensary, the
due medicine for his ailment. He who is enamoured of
chastity, dwells upon the history of Joseph, and from him
learns chaste actions, finding him not only possessed of
self-command over pleasure, but virtuously-minded in
habit. He is taught endurance from Job. Or, should he
be inquiring how to be at once meek and great-hearted,
hearty against sin, meek towards men, he will find David
noble in warlike exploits, meek and unruffled as regards
revenge on enemies. Such, too, was Moses, rising up
with great heart upon sinners against God, but with meek
soul bearing their evil speaking against himself. These
meditations ought to be succeeded by prayer, which
strengthens the energy of the soul, by the flame of divine
BAS. 11
love it kindles in it. Prayer also diffuses light over the
mysteries of the divine essence. Prayer makes the soul
the residence of God Himself, by filling its intelligence
and perceptions with a profound impression of His pre-
sence : it makes the Christian a temple of the divinity ; a
sanctuary which neither the cares nor the revolutions that
agitate the world, nor the lawless affections which make
all our misery, dare venture to approach : separated from
every thing beside, it then communes only with God.
" One of the first objects of our care in a religious com-
munity ought to be so to regulate our conversation, as to
contract the habit of proposing questions to each other,
without any mixture of a disputatious spirit, and of
giving our answers without any pretension to superiority ;
never to interrupt any one who may be speaking of some-
thing useful ; to refrain from endeavouring to shine in
conversation ; to love to learn, without feeling ashamed at
our need of learning ; to impart what we know, without
suffering our vanity to be gratified by imparting it, and
without hiding from ourselves or others the source whence
we may have derived our information, but always making
known, with gratitude, to whomsoever we may be indebted
for it. The sound of the voice should also be attended
to, that we may draw neither too much, nor too little
attention by it. Let us always reflect well on what we
are going to say, before we give it utterance ; let us show
ourselves polite, attentive, affectionate in our language,
but let us not lend our ears to any thing of light or foolish
jesting, — let us, on the contrary, mildly check, by friendly
remonstrance, those who may be in the habit of indulging
in it. We ought never to allow ourselves any harshness,
either of manner or tone, even to recall to duty those who
may have suffered themselves to wander from it. Always
in matters of exhortation place yourself in the lowest
place : you are sure by that means to gain him who may
have need of your advice. In such cases we cannot do
better than take for our model the prophet, who, charged
with the rebuking of David in his sin, does not pronounce,
12 BAS.
in his own person, the sentence of condemnation on him,
but borrowing the character of a stranger, in which to
make his appeal to the king's individual judgment, leaves
him, when he pronounces sentence against him, no plea
for complaint against his accuser."
In all these precepts we have the rules which Basil
himself felt it necessary to impose on his own infirmities,
and thus they became an indirect expression of his acute
sense of his own imperfections.
With what humility does he also express himself on
the same subject to his friend Amphilochus : — " I have
indeed renounced the world," he says, " as far as with-
drawing myself from communication with it may be to
renounce it ; but I feel that the man of the world still
lives in me. You know I have practised at the bar,
hence I have contracted a habit of speaking too much.
I am not sufficiently on my guard against the thoughts
which the evil one suggests to me ; I find difficulty in
relinquishing the favourable opinion I had entertained of
myself, — in a word, my whole soul has need of being
renewed and purified, before I can contemplate, without
impediment, the wonders and glory of my God."
It was nevertheless with inward and sweet consolation
that Basil began to see, in the way of life he had em-
braced, the means afforded him of gradual approach to
that perfection of the regenerate which was the object of
all his most ardent desires.
"It is certain," says he, again addressing his Mend
Gregory, " that retirement from the world affords great
assistance towards the attainment of this end : it calms
and subdues the passions, and gradually induces a habit
of sacred meditation."
At a future period, when he found himself more and
more strengthened in his renunciation of every thing that
had formerly tended to engender in him a vain-glorious
spirit and worldly desires, he was enabled to write thus
to Eusebius :
" I have lost much time from having spent my youth
BAS. 13
in the study of vain sciences, and the acquirement of that
worldly wisdom which is foolishness in the sight of God ;
but now these wretched illusions are dispersed ; I deplore
the uselessness of my past life ; I see the emptiness of
the acquirements which serve no other end than to inflate
us with vain-glory, and the wonderful light of the Evan-
gelists is become my sole treasure. It was indeed incum-
bent upon me to reform my habits, which retained but
too much of the long commerce I had had with the chil-
dren of this world."
Basil was joined by his friend in 359. Their happiness
on this reunion, and the manner in which they passed
their time, may be described by St Gregory, when in
writing to his friend he says : "Who shall make me as
in months past, as in the days when I had the luxury
of suffering hardship with you ? since voluntary pain is
higher than involuntary comfort. Who shall restore me
to those psalmodies, and vigils, and departures to God
through prayer, and that (as it were) immaterial and
incorporeal life ? or to that union of brethren, in nature
and soul, who are made gods by you, and carried on high?
or to that rivalry in virtue and sharpening of heart which
we consigned to written decrees and canons ? or to that
loving study of divine oracles, and the light we found in
them, with the guidance of the Spirit? or, to speak of
lesser and lower things, to the bodily labours of the day,
the wood-drawing and the stone-hewing, the planting and
the draining ? or that golden plane, more honourable than
that of Xerxes, under which, not a jaded king, but a
weary monk did sit, — planted by me, watered by Apollos,
(that is, your honourable self,) increased by God, unto my
honour ; that there should be preserved with you a memo-
rial of my loving toil, as Aaron's rod that budded, was, as
Scripture says and we believe, kept in the ark. It is very
easy to wish all this, not easy to gain. Do you, however,
come to me, and revive my virtue, and work with me ;
and, whatever benefit we once gained together, preserve
VOL. II. B
14 BAS.
for me by your prayers, lest otherwise I fade away by
little and little, as a shadow, while the day declines. For
you are my breath, more than the air, and so far only do I
live, as I am in your company, either present, or, if absent,
by your image."
At this period, St Gregory, though he enjoyed the
society of his friend, indulged himself in some pleasantry
on the subject of St Basil's mode of living. The austeri-
ties of Basil did indeed become severe : Gregory tells us,
after St Basil's death, that " he had but one tunic and
one outer garment ; a bed on the ground, little sleep,
no luxurious bath : his pleasantest meal consisted of
bread and salt, and his drink that sober liquor of which
there is no stint, which is elaborated in the gushing
spring."
The Ascetica of St Basil are supposed to have been written
by him during his retreat: we say "supposed," because
the genuineness of these treatises is disputed. At what
time Basil was ordained is doubtful, but he was certainly
a deacon in 359, when he attended a council held before
Constantius, at Constantinople, to oppose the x\nomoeans.
In 362 he was again summoned from his retirement, to
attend the death bed of Dianius, bishop of Caesarea, to
whom St Basil was personally attached, though to his
principles he was much opposed. Dianius had taken part
against St Athanasius, but seems rather to have been
opposed to the policy of the Nicene test, with respect to
the Homo-ousion, than really heretical. He was one of
those who would not quarrel about a word, and had not
sense to see that in that word the whole controversy was
in fact involved ; which is indeed always forgotten by those
who, in the exercise of their wit display their ignorance,
and think it a matter of ridicule that the whole Church,
even the world, was convulsed for the sake of an iota,
the difference between Homo-ousion and Homoiousion.
But so it was ; and Dianius, being weak and liberal,
iie signed, in the year 360, the formulary of the council
BAR. 15
of Ariminum, in which the orthodox test of the Homo
ousion being given up, the catholic doctrine was evaded,
under the pretence of expressing it only in the words of
Scripture. St Basil had ceased from that time to hold
intercourse with him, until summoned, as we have stated,
to his death bed, when he had the satisfaction of hearing
his friend express in his last hours, his hearty adherence
to the Nicene formulary.
The Church was at this period in a critical situation.
The apostate Julian was on the throne, prepared to assail
her from without, and the Arian, or low church faction,
were rending her vitals within. In this juncture, the
bishop of Caesarea being dead, the people had the folly to
insist upon the election of Eusebius, who was only a
catechumen, and consequently " a novice," and the pre-
lates had the weakness to yield to their violence, and to
consecrate him to the vacant bishopric.
But the first step taken by Eusebius was a wise one.
Feeling his inadequacy to the duties imposed upon him,
he secured the services of Basil, and, ordaining him priest
in the year 364, acted in all things according to his
advice. The awful responsibilities, rather than the dignity
of the ministerial office, pressed upon the minds of Chris-
tians at this period, and it was contrary to his own wishes
that Basil received ordination. It was therefore with
congenial feelings that he read a letter from Gregory, in
which the latter said : " We have both of us been made
priests agaiDst our inclinations; perhaps it might have
been better for us never to have been raised to the sacer-
dotal office. This, however, is all that I will say on the
subject; for I am not fully conscious what have been the
views of God respecting us. Since our lot is cast, it is our
duty to submit ourselves to it, above all, on account of the
times in which we live, when the tongues of heretics are let
loose against us on every side, and to do nothing which
may fall below either the hopes that are conceived respect-
ing us, or the life which we have hitherto led." The times
were the more difficult, because there was a large body in
16 BAS.
the Church, the Semi-arians, with whom the generous
spirit of Basil sympathized, who were rather perplexed by
the various explanations, refinements, and distinctions to
which the Arian controversy had given rise, than perversely
heterodox ; who opposed the Arians, from whom they
had emanated, and shewed an inclination, after the death
of Constantius, in 361, to conform to the doctrine of the
Church. Basil's tenderness to these persons involved him
in difficulties and suspicion throughout his life. But not-
withstanding all the difficulties he had to encounter, his
labours as a priest were eminently successful. He fre-
quently preached every day in the week, and as a record
of his labour we still possess his " Hexaemeron," or nine
homilies on the six days of creation, which may be found
in the first volume of the Benedictine edition of his works.
" The simplest," says his brother, Gregory of Nyssa,
" could comprehend his discourses, whilst the wisest
admired them." But he preached more especially by the
eloquence of his example. He retained in the world the
recollected spirit of a recluse, and his life was as regular
in the midst of his many avocations, as if he had no other
duty to attend to, but the inspection of himself.
Eusebius became jealous. A dispute ensued, which
ended in a separation. The separation after the dispute
was necessary, for the attachment of the people to Basil
was so strong, that it would have been impossible for him,
had he continued in his post, to prevent their forming a
faction against their bishop, especially as their favourite
Basil was the injured party. A weak, a wicked, or an am-
bitious man, however much he may retain the semblance
of piety, can never resist the temporary importance of one
who is enabled to place himself at the head of a faction.
Many a soul has been ruined by this : though to be the
head of a faction requires little intellect ; the only thing
requisite, is that flexibility of principle which will enable
persons to act together under the most degrading of all
bonds, though it is always the bond of religious faction,
the bond, not of love, but hatred, — hatred directed to a
BAS. 17
common object. St Basil was a true churchman ; a man
of God ; and as such was prepared to suffer, rather than
injure the Church or damage his own soul. Once again,
therefore, he quitted Caesarea, and retired not unwillingly
to his monastic seclusion in Pontus. St Gregory Nazian-
zen accompanied him, and there, in the serenity of his
monastery, and in the society of his friend, he was
permitted during three years of retirement, to prepare his
soul for the greater trials which awaited him.
For the times were not such as to permit a man of
Basil's energy and genius to continue long in seclusion.
Valens, the emperor, was a heretic, and determined to
establish heresy on the ruins of Catholicism : he had
already made havoc of the Church of Galatia, and was
proceeding to do the same damage to the Church of Cappa-
docia, expecting to make great gain of the divisions there,
and the absence of Basil, and being supported by an
army, as Gregory describes it, worthy of such a chief, and
ready to commit any atrocity ; by bishops without piety,
and by governors of provinces 'without humanity. He
tried, indeed, the arts of profane governments, and by
promises of protection and preferment, sought to win Basil
to his side ; but Basil, true to his principles, had been
reconciled to Eusebius, and was found at his post, man-
fully contending for the faith once delivered to the saints,
and utterly defeating the godless machinations of Valens,
who was, in the words of Gregory, equally distinguished
for the love of money and the hatred of Christ, <Pi\ox?v<roTa.To<;
X.CLI fj(,L<TOXpl<TTOTa,TO$.
The reconciliation between Basil and his bishop had
been effected by Gregory Nazianzen, who first addressed
the bishop in a letter, of which the following is a transla-
tion:
"lam well aware that in addressing your lordship, I
am addressing one who himself hates insincerity, and
who has a peculiar skill in detecting it in others, however
artfully concealed : and indeed I may say, if you will
b 2
18 BAS.
pardon the impertinence, I am myself averse to it, both
by natural disposition and from Christian education. So
let me speak out what is Uppermost on my mind, and
excuse my freedom. Indeed it would be an injury to me
to restrain me and bid me keep my pain to myself, as a
sore festering in my heart. Proud as I am of your notice,
(for I am a man, as some one says before me,) and of your
invitations to religious consultations and meetings, yet I
cannot bear your holiness's past and present slight of my
most honoured brother Basil, whom I selected from the
first, and still possess as my friend, to live with me and
study with me, and search with me into the deepest
wisdom. I have no need to be dissatisfied with the
opinion I have formed of him, and if I do not say more
in his praise, it is lest, in enlarging on his admirable
qualities, I should seem to be praising myself. Now,
your favour towards me, and discountenance of him, is as
if a man should stroke one's head with one hand, and
with the other strike one's cheek ; or decorate a house
with paintings and beautify the outside, while he was
undermining its foundations. If there is any thing you
will grant me, let it be this ; and I trust you will, for
really it is equitable. He will certainly defer to you, if
you do but pay a reasonable deference to him. For my-
self, I shall come after him as shadows follow bodies,
being small, and a lover of quiet. Miserable indeed should
we be, if while we were desirous of wisdom in other
matters, and to choose the better part, we yet thought
little of that grace, which is the end of all our doctrine —
charity ; especially in the case of one who is our bishop,
and so eminent, as we well know, in life, in doctrine, in
conversation, and in the government of his diocese ; for
the truth must be spoken, whatever our private feelings
may be."
Gregory at the same time wrote to Basil :
" This time calls upon us to be well-judging in our
measures, and to bear patiently what may come upon us :
BAS. 19
to surpass in valour the generality of men, and to have a
care lest all our past labour and toil should suddenly come
to nothing. Now, why do I write thus ? It is because
-our admirable bishop, for such in future we ought to think
and call Eusebius, has most friendly and kind feelings
towards us, and like steel in the fire is softened by time.
I even expect that you will receive a communication from
him, with pleasant words, and a summons, as he himself
hinted to me, and many of his confidential friends assure
me. Let us then anticipate his advances, either by our
presence or by writing, or, what would be better still, by
first writing and then making our appearance, lest we suf-
fer hereafter a defeat with disgrace, when we might have
conquered by a defeat which was honourable and dignified ;
which, indeed, most men expect of us. Come, then, ac-
cording to my entreaty, both on this account, and for the
times' sake. In truth, the heretical faction is trampling
the Church under-foot ; some of them are already among
us and are at work ; others, it is said, will follow soon.
Surely there is danger of their sweeping away the word
of truth, unless the spirit of our Bezaleel speedily awake,
that cunning master-builder of argument and doctrine.
If you wish me to be present and to assist in this busi-
ness, or to be the companion of your journey, I am at
your service."
Gregory was not at first successful with Eusebius, but
having prevailed with him, he found Basil ready at once
to forget as well as to forgive the past, and to act the part
of a Christian. "It required," says Gregory, "no long
arguments to prevail on him to come to our aid. I it was,
who was charged by Eusebius to bear to him the unani-
mous wish of the people for his return. As soon as he
beheld me, without one moment's hesitation, he prepared
to quit Pontus immediately, and to follow me ; he saw
nothing but the fact that the Church was endangered
by tyranny; he had no other feeling than the desire to
support it, and to devote himself unconditionally to its
service."
20 BAS.
The reconciliation when it took place was on both sides
cordial and sincere : the aged bishop found in the energetic
Basil the friend and coadjutor whom his advanced years
required : and Basil was as usual successful among the
people. " Nothing," says St Gregory in allusion to his
conduct at this period, "could equal his zeal and courage,
excepting his prudence and profound wisdom ; he knew,
at once, how to regain the affection of his people, put an
end to the disputes which divided even the orthodox, and
separate from them those who were inimical to the truth.
Every where was he seen joining himself to the strong,
supporting the weak, and repulsing their adversaries, who
were obliged, at length, to retire, without gaining a single
advantage over them."
In the year 368 two awful events occurred in which the
character of St Basil displayed itself in the most amiable
colours. Drought and famine desolated the whole of Cap-
padocia : and dreadful as the visitation was every where, it
was peculiarly so in Ciesarea, as its distance from the sea
prevented the importation of foreign corn. At this junc-
ture the rich were found inclined to speculate on the
miseries of their fellow creatures by buying up the
provisions that remained, in the hope of making an
enormous profit on them as the necessities of the people
increased. The energies of St Basil were enthusiastically
employed on the part of the poor : he alarmed some by
his denunciations, and melted others by his entreaties,
and never rested until the poor were fed. Basil, assisted
by other benevolent Christians, raised the funds for their
support, regulated the distribution of the stores himself,
watched over the necessities of the people, and ministered
to their spiritual wants at the same time that he provided
for the wants of their body.
Is it asked where was the secret by which Basil obtained
this wondrous influence over the minds of men? We
answer, his preaching was powerful not in words only but
more especially in deeds. Emmelia, his mother, was dead.
Basil had, therefore, become once more possessed of con-
BAS. -21
siderable private property. He again sold his possessions,
and it was with the sum thus realized that he provided
daily for those who were unable to provide for themselves.
He refused none ; neither Jew nor heathen was excluded
from his bounty; his light shone on the evil and the good,
for in such times the question relates not to a man's merits
but to his wants. Mention has just been made of the
death of St Basil's mother, Emmelia ; so that domestic
giief was added to public care, and how deeply he felt his
loss, he himself declares when in writing to Eusebius of
Samosata ; he says, " I have lost the first joy of my life, —
I have lost my mother. Do not accuse me of weakness in
deploring, at my age, this event as lacerating to my heart.
Oh ! do not condemn me for regretting the removal of a
person whose place no other in this world can ever supply
to me, and alas ! whom no other will ever resemble in my
eyes."' The Church regarded Emmelia as a saint; and the
loss of a saint-like mother is indeed irreparable.
The other event to which allusion has been made as
occuring this year was an earthquake which over-
whelmed the city of Nice. Among those who were buried
in its ruins was Caesarius, the brother of Gregory Xazian-
zen. He had been extricated with difficulty, and had
received, as it were, his life from the grave. The earth
trembled and shook, and he was counted as one of them that
go down into the pit, but he was spared ; and St Basil, on
writing to congratulate him, says, " Oh that we could
always retain the sentiments by which we are animated in
times of danger and trial ; — then it is that we are indeed
fully impressed with a conviction of the nothingness of
this life, the uncertainty of all worldly things, the folly of
those who attach themselves to them : then it is that we
deplore our past errors ; that we form new resolutions to
watch more narrowly over ourselves for the future, and to
consecrate ourselves afresh and entirely to the Lord. Such
are the sentiments you have no doubt experienced on your
late deliverance. Look upon yourself, then, for the future,
as a man charged, if ever there was one, with an immense
23 BAS.
and most sacred debt. I suggest these considerations to
you, with mixed emotions of thankfulness for the past,
and solicitude for the future : excuse my frankness. I
well remember you used to like me to hold such language
as this, with you, and I am willing to flatter myself that
it will not at this time find you less disposed to listen to
it favourably."
While Basil was devoting all his thoughts and time to
the service of the church of Caesarea, Eusebius died ; and
his flock was now exposed to the same troubles that in-
fested it at the time of his election. Caesarea was the
most considerable see in the east next to Antioch ;
the integrity of the faith in that important diocese,
and the harmony which reigned among the people, gave
the heretics no small uneasiness, and they were now re-
solved to make a bold push, and to leave no stone unturned
in order to get it into their hands. Upon this the clergy
of Caesarea notified their bishop's death to the other pre-
lates in the province, who hastend thither in order to pro-
ceed to the election of a successor, and thus to defeat the
attempts of the Arians. St Gregory, bishop of Nazianzum,
father of St Basil's illustrious friend, was then eighty years
old, and sick in bed, and consequently unable to assist in
person at the choice of a new bishop. He wrote to the
clergy and people of Caesarea, assuring them that, if it
were but barely possible for him to be removed to that city,
he would not fail to attend ; but, if that was not in his
power, he gave them to understand that his vote went for
Basil, whom he could not but prefer on this occasion,
although he was satisfied there might be several persons
truly worthy of that dignity. " He is a man," says that
venerable prelate, "of sound doctrine, and pure morals ;
and the only person, or, at least, the properest, to
oppose the heretics, and defend the faith against their
assaults." The same prelate sent another letter on the
same subject to Eusebius, bishop of Samosata, and although
not of the province, begged his assistance in the affair,
because it concerned the whole Church. Eusebius went
BAS. 23
to Caesarea; where the Catholics received fresh courage
frorn the presence of one so famous and so much esteemed ;
which was necessary at that time ; for though there could
be no dispute about St Basil's superior qualifications, his
election was opposed by some of the chief persons in that
country ; the faction was supported by great numbers of
such as are always ready to act with their leaders, and
their party seemed so strong that several of the bishops
gave in to their measures, imagining they spoke the sense
of the whole people. Eusebius undeceived the greatest
part of them, and the old bishop of Xazianzum, under-
standing that Basil still wanted one vote, forgot his age
and sickness, was carried in a litter to Caesarea, and would
have thought himself happy had he expired the moment
he had concurred to the good work. Thus St Basil was
regularly and canonically elected and consecrated on the
14th of June, 370.
Nothing is so difficult for a man in a public station as
to act up to the opinion his friends have entertained of
him before his promotion. But St Basil came up to
their highest expectations. His first care was to soften
the minds of such as were exasperated against him.
and had been heated with the late intrigues ; he gained
them so effectually by a noble, ingenuous, and gentle
line of conduct without any mixture of flattery, that
they were persuaded their salvation could not be safe,
while they remained disobedient to this excellent prelate.
Thus conquered by generous usage, and convinced of their
fault by the conduct of their pastor, they endeavoured to
recommend themselves by a virtuous and regular life,
which was all that could entitle them to his favour, and
convince him of the reality of their repentance. This is
the account St Gregory has left us of his friend.
His new dignity was not supported by a large retinue,
a splendid table, and magnificent furniture ; humility,
frugality and mortification were his only ornaments. His
servants were reduced to so small a number, that he often
wanted persons to copy his writings, carry his letters, and
•24 BAS.
go on the most necessary messages ; and only the poor
knew that the revenue of his bishopric was considerable.
His whole family was most exactly regular, and no one
could be admitted into his house, who was not disposed to
conform to the discipline of it. Neither the multiplicity
of business, nor his continual infirmities, hindered him
from often explaining the Word of God to his people on
working days both morning and afternoon ; upon which
occasion the tradesmen shut up their shops most willingly
and hastened to the divine food, without any concern for
the loss of their business in the meantime. The ardour
his flock shewed augmented the pastor's zeal, which
often exceeded his strength ; for which reason in one of
his homilies he compares himself to a nurse, who has no
milk, but is obliged, however, to give her child the breast
to keep it from crying. He made frequent visitations of
his whole diocese ; established ecclesiastical discipline in
its primitive rigour ; reclaimed several who seemed to be
lost to all sense of goodness; and employed both his tongue
and pen in laying down excellent rules for every state of
life, which are the subject of several of his letters and
homilies.
But the difficulties with which St Basil had to contend
upon his first entrance upon his office were very great.
The state of the Church internally may be surmised
from the following letters addressed by St Basil to his
suffragans.
" So great is the enormity of the crime which is the
subject of this letter, that the very suspicion and report of
it pained me deeply. And hitherto I did not believe it
could have been committed. So what I shall say about it
must be taken as a wholesome medicine by such as are
conscious of guilt ; by the innocent as a warning ; and as
a protest by those who stand aloof, though I trust such
indifference is not found among you. What am I de-
nouncing ? It is reported that some among you receive a
price for bestowing ordination, and then give a religious
colour to their proceeding. Should this be so, let it cease ;
BAS. 25
for we are bound to say to him who receives, what the
apostles said to him who offered a price for the participa-
tion of the Spirit, "Thy money perish with thee !" Indeed,
it is a less sin to be ignorant that we cannot buy, than to
sell the gift of God. For we sell what we received without
price, and so, being sold to Satan, shall certainly lose it.
We traffic in things spiritual, even in that Church in
which the body and blood of Christ are given us in charge.
This must not be.
"The evasion of these persons is as follows. They con-
sider they are clear of the guilt, in that they receive
nothing before ordination, but after. But to receive is
still to receive, whatever be the time.
"I beseech you turn from this way of gain, or rather, of
perdition ; nor by such pollution deprive your hands of
the power of celebrating the holy mysteries. Let me
speak my purpose. First, I exhort as disbelieving the
charge; next, as if convinced, I threaten. Should any
instance occur after this my letter, the offender shall be
removed from the altar of his church ; for he makes a
gain of the gift of God. We have no such custom, neither
the churches of God. I will add one word. The love of
money, which has caused this crime, is the root of all evil,
and is termed in Scripture idolatry. Prefer not idols to
Christ, for a paltry bribe ; nor be as Judas, selling Him
afresh who was once for all crucified for us. Surely both
the estates, and the hands of those who reap the fruits
thereof, shall be called Aceldama."
On another occasion he addresses his suffragan bishops
in these terms : —
"lam much concerned at the utter disuse, which prevails
among us, of the canons of our fathers, and at the banish-
ment of exact discipline from the churches ; and I am
apprehensive lest, if this indifference goes further, ecclesi-
astical affairs will fall into utter confusion. According to
the ancient custom of the Church, candidates for its min-
istry were not admitted without most careful examination.
vol. ir. c
26 BAS.
Diligent inquiry was made into their manner of life,
whether they were railers, or drunkards, or quarrelsome,
or unable to control their youth, so as to secure that holi-
ness, without which no one shall see the Lord. The pres-
byters and deacons in their neighbourhood ascertained
these points, and reported to the suffragans, who collected
their opinions together, and laid them before the bishop :
and then the candidate was received. But at present you
have deprived me of the right of this report, and have
taken the whole authority into your own hands. Next,
you have neglected the duty thus undertaken, and have
allowed the presbyters and deacons to introduce into the
church whom they would, without inquiring into their
previous life, from personal liking, either from relationship
or other connexion. Hence, many as are the inferior
ministers in each town, there is not, perhaps, one fit to be
advanced to the ministry of the altar, [i. e., to the priest-
hood and diaconate,] as, indeed, yourself acknowledge, in
the difficulty you find in electing them. Since, then, these
irregularities tend to irreparable mischief, especially now,
when so many are entering the ministry to avoid conscrip-
tion for the army, I have felt myself compelled to recur to
the canons of our fathers ; aud I write to you for a list of
the ministers of each town, and by whom each was recom-
mended, and his mode of life. And I wish you to keep
lists of your own, which may be checked by those you send
me, so that no one may be able to introduce his name of
himself. If any should be introduced by presbyters after
this arrangement, they are to be put back again into the
laity, and undergo an examination afresh. Should they
be approved, then let them be re-admitted."
When he was securely seated in the metropolitan see,
like a Catholic pastor, he extended his care beyond the
boundaries of his own province and applied himself to
restoring the peace of the Church, torn to pieces by the
Arian faction, and opened a correspondence with the
illustrious St Athanasius and the bishops of the west.
Thefo Rowing is his letter to St Athanasius : —
BAS. 27
" I suppose there is no one who feels such pain at
the present condition, or rather want of condition of the
churches, as your grace; comparing, as you naturally
must, the present with the past, and considering the
difference between them, and the certainty there is, if the
evil proceeds at its present pace, that in a short time the
churches will altogether lose their present constitution. I
have often thought with myself, if the corruption of the
churches seems so sad to me, what must be the feelings
of one who has witnessed their former stability and
unanimity in the faith. And as your holiness has more
abundant grief, so one must suppose you have greater
anxiety for their welfare. For myself, I have been long
of opinion, according to my imperfect understanding of
ecclesiastical matters, that there was one way of succouring
our churches — viz., the co-operation of the bishops of the
west. If they would but show, as regards our part of
Christendom, the zeal which they manifested in the case
of one or two heretics among themselves, there would be
some chance of benefit to our common interests ; the civil
power would be persuaded by the argument derived from
their number, and the laity in each place would follow
their lead without hesitation. Now there is no one more
able to accomplish this than yourself, from sagacity in
counsel, and energy in action, and sympathy for the
troubles of the brethren, and the reverence felt by the
west for your hoary head. Most reverend father, leave
the world some memorial worthy of your former deeds.
Crown your former numberless combats for religion with
this one additional achievement. Send to the bishops of
the west, from your holy church, men powerful in sound
doctrine ; relate to them our present calamities ; suggest
to them the mode of relieving us. Be a Samuel to the
churches ; conduct their flocks harassed by war ; offer
prayers of peace ; ask grace of the Lord, that he may give
some token of peace to the churches. I know letters are
but feeble instruments to persuade so great a thing; but
while you need not to be urged on by others, more than
28 BAS.
generous combatants by the acclamation of boys, I, on
the other hand, am not as if lecturing the ignorant, but
adding speed to the earnest.
" As to the remaining matters of the east, you would
perhaps wish the assistance of others, and think it neces-
sary to wait for the arrival of the western bishops. How-
ever, there is one Church, the prosperity of which de-
pends entirely on yourself — Antioch. It is in your power
so to manage the one party, and to moderate the other, as
at length to restore strength to the Church by their union.
You know, better than any one can tell you, that, as wise
physicians prescribe, it is necessary to begin with treating
the more vital matters. Now what can be more vital to
Christendom than the welfare of Antioch ? If we could
but settle the differences there, the head being restored,
the whole body would regain health."
To the bishops of the West he addressed himself also :
"The merciful God, who ever joins comfort to affliction,
has lately given me some consolation amid my sorrows,
in the letters which our most reverend father, Athanasius,
has transmitted to us from your holinesses. Our afflic-
tions are well known without my telling ; the sound of
them has now gone forth over all Christendom. The doc-
trines of the fathers are despised ; apostolical traditions
are set at nought ; the speculations of innovators hold
sway in the churches. Men have learned to be theorists
instead of theologians. The wisdom of the world has the
place of honour, having dispossessed the boasting of the
cross. The pastors are driven away, grievous wolves are
brought in instead, and plunder the flock of Christ,
Houses of prayer are destitute of preachers ; the deserts
are full of mourners : the old bewail, comparing what is
with what was ; more pitiable are the young, as not knowing
what they are deprived of. What has been said is suffi-
cient to kindle the sympathy of those who are taught in
the love of Christ, yet compared with the facts, it is far
from reaching their seriousness."
BAS. 29
In the second letter, addressed to the bishops of Italy
and Gaul, he says :
" The danger is not confined to one church : not two
or three only have fallen in with this heavy tempest.
Almost from the borders of Illyricum down to the Thebais,
this evil of heresy spreads itself. The doctrines of godli-
ness are overturned ; the rules of the Church are in
confusion ; the ambition of the unprincipled seizes upon
places of authority; and the chief seat is now openly
proposed as a reward for impiety ; so that he whose blas-
phemies are the more shocking, is more eligible for the
oversight of the people. Priestly gravity has perished ;
there are none left to feed the Lord's flock with know-
ledge ; ambitious men are ever spending in purposes of
self-indulgence and bribery, possessions which they hold
in trust for the poor. The accurate observance of the
canons is no more ; there is no restraint upon sin. Un-
believers laugh at what they see, and the weak are
unsettled; faith is doubtful, ignorance is poured over
their souls, because the adulterators of the word in wick-
edness imitate the truth. Religious people keep silence ;
but every blaspheming tongue is let loose. Sacred things
are profaned ; those of the laity who are sound in faith
avoid the places of worship as schools of impiety, and
raise their hands in solitude, with groans and tears, to
the Lord in heaven. While then any Christians seem
yet to be standing, hasten to us : hasten then to us, our
own brothers ; yea, we beseech you. Stretch out your
hands and raise us from our knees ; suffer not the half of
the world to be swallowed up by error, nor faith to be
extinguished in the countries whence it first shone forth.
What is most melancholy of all, even the portion among
us which seems to be sound, is divided in itself, so that
calamities beset us like those which came upon Jerusalem
when it was besieged."
One cannot read these passages without thanking our
gracious God for the improved state of things in our own
c 2
30 BAS.
beloved church of England ; and if, from trje oppression
of hostile governments, our church is injured and en-
slaved ; if there be a faction within the pale attempting
to deface every feature and lineament of a church among
us, still we are not yet in so bad a condition as the church
of Antioch, under Valens.
Valens determined, in 372, to take decided and decisive
measures against the Catholics, and found in the prefect
Modestus a ready instrument for his work. Modestus had
been baptized by the Arians, when paganism was the
fashion under Julian, he became a pagan, and now under
Valens he was again an Arian. By the emperor's direc-
tions, this Arian minister commanded St Basil to receive
the Arians into communion. Both emperor and minister
saw the sound policy of thus healing at once all religious
differences : they regarded the points of difference as of
no importance ; but the Church was not at that time en-
slaved to the state, neither were bishops nominees of the
minister, and emperor and minister found the Church too
powerful for them. The minister of Valens summoned
before him the minister of God, and knowing how his own
worldly mind would be influenced, he endeavoured first
by promises, and then by threats, to prevail on St Basil
to yield to the emperor's demands. The colloquy between
the bishop and the minister is on record. " What," said
the insolent minister, " what is the meaning of this, you
Basil, that you dare to resist so great a prince, and, when
others yield, are still self-willed." " What would you have
me do?" answered Basil; "What is my extravagance?
I have not heard it."
" Modestus. You are not worshipping after the em-
peror's manner, when the rest of your party have given
way and been overcome.
" Basil. I have a Sovereign whose will is otherwise,
nor can I bring myself to worship any creature, — I, a crea-
ture of God, and commanded to become a partaker of the
divine nature.
BAS. 31
" Modestus. For whom do you take me '?
" Basil. For a thing of nought, while such are your
commands.
" Modestus. Is it, then, a mere nothing for one like
you to have rank like myself, and to have my fellowship.
" Basil. You are prefect, and in noble place ; I own
it. Yet God's majesty is greater ; and it is much that
I am to have your fellowship, for we are both God's crea-
tures. But it is as great to be fellow to any other of my
flock, for Christianity lies not in distinction of persons,
but in faith.
" The prefect, angered at this, rose from his chair, and
abruptly asked Basil if he did not fear his power.
" Basil. Fear what consequences *? what sufferings ?
"Modestus. One of those many pains a prefect can
inflict.
" Basil. Let me know them.
" Modestus. Confiscation, exile, tortures, death.
" Basil. Think of some other threat. These have no
influence upon me. He runs no risk of confiscation who
has nothing to lose, except these mean garments and a
few books. Nor does he care for exile, who is not circum-
scribed by place, who makes it not a home wrhere he now
dwells, but everywhere a home whithersoever he be cast,
or rather everywhere God s home, whose pilgrim he is
and wanderer. Nor can tortures harm a frame so frail as
to break under the first blow. You could but strike
once, and death would be gain. It would but send
me the sooner to Him for whom I live and labour, nay,
am dead rather than live, to whom I have long been
journeying.
" Modestus. Xo one yet ever spoke to Modestus with
such freedom.
" Basil. Perad venture Modestus never yet fell in with
a bishop ; or surely in a like trial he would have heard
like language. 0 prefect, in other things we are gentle,
and more humble than all men living, for such is the
commandment; so as not to raise our brow. I sav not
32 BAS.
against ' so great a prince,' but even against one of least
account. But when God's honour is at stake, we think
of nothing else, looking simply to Him. Fire and the
sword, beasts of prey, irons to rend the flesh, are an in-
dulgence rather than a terror to a Christian. Therefore
insult, threaten, do your worst, make the most of your
power. Let the emperor be informed of my purpose. Me
you gain not, you persuade not, to an impious creed, by
menaces, even more frightful."
After this conversation, the prefect felt convinced that
no arguments he could use would be of sufficient force to
subdue such heroic courage ; he therefore suffered Basil
to depart, and could not refrain, in taking leave of him,
from testifying his respect for his principles. On his
return to the emperor, "Prince," said he to him, "we
are vanquished : the bishop of Caesarea is one of those
men whom threats cannot terrify, arguments convince,
or promises seduce." The emperor was wise enough to
forbear from violence towards such an adversary, and,
perhaps, generous enough to admire the very integrity he
had hoped to corrupt ; Basil was therefore left in peace,
as far as his own personal safety, and that of the people
immediately under his care was concerned.
Valens even went further ; he attended the church
accompanied by his court, on the feast of Epiphany, and
heard Basil preach. And he was deeply affected by what
he saw and heard ; by the solemnity of the psalms,
chanted antiphonally, by the reverence, devotion, and
order which prevailed in the congregation, as well as by
the sermon of Basil. The holy bishop standing at the
altar, fixed in his great ministry, and his mind entirely
taken up with the God he adored, and all who at-
tended him full of reverence and respect, was a glo-
rious sight, and inspired in him such awe for the
service of God, and such a respect for our great pre-
late, that when he was to carry his offering to the holy
table, he trembled so violently that he must have fallen,
had not one of the ministers of the altar supported
BAS. 33
him. This offering, as we learn from St Gregory Nazian-
zen's account, was bread which every communicant made
with his own hands, and was consecrated in the holy
mysteries.
This was not the only time that Valens appeared at
church. He one day went within the veil, into what some
suppose to have been the vestry, others the enclosure of
the altar, where the emperors were admitted, according to
the custom of the eastern churches. That prince had been
long desirous of conversing with St Basil, and took this
opportunity of enjoying that pleasure. Their discourse
turned on matters of faith ; St Gregory Xazianzen, who
made one at the conference, assures us that the principal
officers of the court, who were present on that occasion,
were obliged to own that Basil talked divinely ; and
Theodoret, after giving us the same account, tells us the
emperor was so well pleased with his discourse, that he
became more gentle to the Catholics, and gave a good
estate in that neighbourhood for the relief of lepers, of
whom the holy bishop took care, and afterwards erected
an hospital for their reception.
Basil, though so firm in principle, was at the same time
a conciliator, and finding that many of the semi-arians
were orthodox in fact, though not in form, he dealt so
gently with them, that he had at one time to defend him-
self from the charge of being one of the number. [See
the life of Basil of Ancyra, infra.'] This he could easily do,
though his attachment to Eustathius, whom he refused to
denounce, until proof of his guilt became too apparent to
be denied, involved him in much trouble. Eustathius, of
Sebaste, a finished hypocrite, had been the friend and
companion of St Basil, on his first retirement to Pontus :
the form which the fanaticism of the age assumed was
that of asceticism, and, won by the assumed asceticism of
Eustathius, St Basil gave him his friendship, although
his integrity was suspected by almost every one else. In
372 or 373 the eyes of Basil were opened, but it was
only by degrees ; such was the firmness of his friendship.
34 BAS.
He was invited by Theodotus, bishop of Nicopolis, in
Little Armenia, to a council, in which the conduct and
principles of Eustathius were to be considered; as Sebaste
was situated within the province of Theodotus, and
Theodotus had refused communion with Eustathius as
an Arian. St Basil, like a true friend, determined first
to have an interview with Eustathius, who satisfied him
of his orthodoxy. Theodotus, in consequence, revoked
the invitation he had sent to Basil, and Basil meekly, and
without resenting the insult, returned to Caesarea. He
still continued, notwithstanding the injury his own cha-
racter sustained by his conduct, to defend Eustathius,
and in order to satisfy the Armenian bishops of his
orthodoxy, he undertook to make him sign an orthodox
confession, containing the Nicene creed, and condemning
not only the Arian heresy, but the heresies also of Mar
cellus and Sabellius. Eustathius signed the confession,
and in order to acquit him, St Basil, in the zeal of his
friendship, called a synod of the bishops of Cappadocia
and Armenia ; when the assembled prelates were perhaps
less astonished than Basil, to hear that Eustathius had
revoked his subscription. He had been tampered with
by the court ; he thought that Valens was more likely to
be a good patron than Basil ; and becoming a supporter
of government, though the government was hostile to the
Church, he declaimed with fury against the Catholics in
general, and especially against Basil, who did not con-
descend to enter into controversy with him, but considered
the calumnies of Eustathius to be sufficiently refuted by
the comparison which all who knew them both were
capable of instituting between the conduct and the cha-
racters of the two men.
But in one instance he wTas obliged to come forward in
defence not of himself but of his church. Eustathius,
by his intrigues, caused the separation of a portion
of the coast of Pontus from the church of Caesarea,
and St Basil addressed an expostulation to the sepa-
ratists : " Hitherto," he wrote, " I have lived in much
BAS. 35
affliction and grief, ever reflecting that you are wanting
to me. For when God tells me, — even God who became
incarnate for the very purpose that by patterns of
duty, He might regulate our life, and might by His
own voice announce to us the gospel of the kingdom —
when He, even God saith, ■ By this shall men know
that ye are My disciples, if ye love one another;'
and whereas the Lord left His true peace to His disciples
as a favourite gift, when about to complete the dispensa-
tion in the flesh, saying, " Peace I leave with you, My
peace I give unto you," I cannot persuade myself that
without love to others, and without, as far as rests with
me, peaceableness towards all, I can be called a worthy
servant of Jesus Christ. I have waited a long while for
the chance of your love paying us a visit. For ye are not
ignoraut that we, being exposed to all, as rocks running
out into the sea, sustain the fury of the heretical waves,
which, in that they break around us, do not cover the
district behind. I say ' we,' in order to refer it, not to
human power, but to the grace of God, who, by the
weakness of men shows His power, as says the prophet
in the person of the Lord, ' Will ye not fear Me, who
have placed the sand as a boundary to the sea ?' for
by the weakest and most contemptible of all things,
the sand, the Mighty One has bounded the great and
full sea. Since, then, this is our position, it became
your love to be frequent in sending true brothers, to
visit us who labour in the storm, and more frequently
letters of love, partly to confirm our courage, partly to
correct any mistake of ours. For we confess that we are
liable to numberless mistakes, being men, and living in
the flesh.
" Let not this consideration influence you. ' We dwell
on the sea, we are exempt from the sufferings of the gene-
rality, we need no succour from others ; so what is the
good to us of foreign communion?' For the same Lord
who divided the islands from the continent by the sea,
bound the island Christians to the continental by love.
36 BAS.
Nothing, brethren, separates us from each other, but de-
liberate estrangement. We have one Lord, one faith, the
same hope. The hands need each other ; the feet steady
each other. The eyes possess their clear apprehension
from agreement. We, for our part, confess our own
weakness, and we seek your fellow-feeling. For we are
assured, that though ye are not present in body, yet by
the aid of prayer, ye will do us much benefit in these
most critical times. It is neither decorous before men,
nor pleasing to God, that you should make avowals which
not even the gentiles adopt, which know not God. Even
they, as we hear, though the country they live in be suffi-
cient for all things, yet, on account of the uncertainty of
the future, make much of alliances with each other, and
seek mutual intercourse as being advantageous to them.
Yet we, the sons of fathers who have laid down the law,
that by brief notes the proofs of communion should be
carried about from one end of the earth to the other, and
that all should be citizens and familiars with all, now
sever ourselves from the whole world, and are neither
ashamed at our solitariness, nor shudder that on us
is fallen the fearful prophecy of the Lord, ■ Because of
lawlessness abounding, the love of the many shall wax
cold."'
Although we know not what effect this striking epistle
had upon the separatists, it is given here as illustrative of
St Basil's character ; a peculiarity of which displayed
itself in his conduct towards Gregory Nazianzen. There
is a jealousy in friendship which is apt to evince itself
when of two friends who lived on terms of equality, one
is advanced to a high station. And in Gregory's sensitive
nature this was to be expected. Soon after Basil's ap-
pointment to the exarchate, Basil seems to have been
annoyed at Gregory's keeping aloof from him, and Gregory
seems to have kept aloof, thinking that Basil ought to
have pressed his attendance. We suspect the existence
of some such almost unconscious sensitiveness on the
part of Gregory, though doubtless he was sincere in
BAS. 37
stating that the reason of his staying away, was a feeling
of delicacy lest his friend should appear to be collecting
partizans about him. When Gregory did visit St Basil,
though he was received with every mark of attention and
respect, he did not remain long in Caasarea, and in their
subsequent correspondence there appears to have been a
little touchiness on both sides. These mutual heart-
burnings ended at last in a quarrel, under the circum-
stances about to be related.
The province of Cappadocia was found to be too large
for one civil magistrate, and being divided into two, the
two provinces had Caesarea and Tyana for their respective
capitals. Anthemus, the bishop of Tyana, immediately
made the attempt to erect his city into a metropolitan
see, and thus to sever half the province from the arch-
bishop of Caesarea. Hence a controversy ensued ; on the
one side was Basil and justice, on the other the arian-
izing bishops, and all the low church party who had
opposed the election of Basil. On this occasion Gregory
offered his assistance to his friend, though not without a
hint that there had been mismanagement on the side of
Basil. " I will come to you," wrote Gregory, " if you
wish it ; if so be, to advise with you, if the sea wants
water, or you a counsellor ; at all events, to gain benefit
and act the philosopher, by bearing ill usage in your
company."
Gregory accordingly attended Basil in his visitation of
the second Cappadocia ; and when the archbishop deter-
mined on the erection of certain new bishoprics in the
district, and appointed Gregory to that of Sasima, Basil
thought much of the Church and too little of his friend.
He 'thought that Gregory could not be more usefully
employed than in the superintendence of the church of
Sasima, and therefore, without regard to his feelings, he
immediately placed him there. Whereas Gregory was
thinking chiefly of his friend, and only came into Cappa-
docia that he might be near to him, have frequent
vol. ii. n
38 BAS„
intercourse with him, and become his adviser. When he
found that Basil acted as if he disregarded him as a
counsellor and seemed to make light of his friendship, his
sensitive nature was deeply wounded. He wrote a very
indignant letter on the subject to Basil ; and although
Gregory, to use a common expression, " lost himself" on
the occasion, by thinking more highly of himself than a
Christian man ought to do, yet certainly it does seem
that Basil might have found an inferior man better quali-
fied for the situation at Sasima, than the sensitive Gre-
gory, who, writing with some heat, exclaimed : " Give me
peace and quiet above all things. Why should I be
fighting for sucklings and birds, which are not mine, as if
in a matter of souls and- church rules? Well, play the
man, be strong, turn every thing to your own glory, as
rivers suck up the mountain rill, thinking little of friend-
ship or intimacy, compared with high aims and piety,
and disregarding what the wrorld will think of you for
all this, being the property of the Spirit alone ; while, on
my part, so much shall I gain from this your friendship,
not to trust in friends, nor to put anything above God."
We conclude our reference to this unhappy dispute,
with a remark, which in effect we made before, that all
the ardour of friendship was on the side of Gregory, and
that he received in return from Basil, the respect and
esteem which such attachment and so much virtue could
not fail to conciliate, rather than that enthusiastic admira-
tion and warmth of affection, in which true friendship
consists. The estrangement was not of long duration,
though to the last, even when apologizing for his friend
after his death, for this very transaction, the wounded
feelings of Gregory betrayed themselves.
We have alluded already to a grant of land which St
Basil obtained from Valens, and many other grants he
obtained from the wealthy and the noble, thinking that
he benefited them by whatever he could draw from their
superfluous stores, for the good of the poor. With funds
BAS. 39
thus collected, he accomplished one of the noblest under-
takings ever planned by human benevolence, the Ptocho-
tropheion, called also, the Basileias, an hospital, and
workhouse combined, which Gregory describes in the fol-
lowing terms. This " new town, raised on the confines
of the old, was open to every description of human
misery and necessity ; in it, all the infirmities and acci-
dents to which our material nature is liable were care-
fully attended to ; medical attendants, nurses, guides for
the blind, the crippled, and the aged, were attached to it :
and, in the true spirit of Christian charity, spacious
apartments were added expressly for the lepers, who, till
then chased from place to place, and even driven out of
all human haunts, found there the attentions and solace
which their peculiar affliction so earnestly called for.
Here, likewise, strangers were received with brotherly
cordiality, and treated with liberal though simple hospi-
tality. Careful, at the same time, that a charity meant
for the amelioration of the human race should in no way
be suffered to minister to its corruptions, Basil provided
spacious rooms and workshops for different handicrafts
and mechanical occupations, where all who were desirous
of employment could obtain it : and where those who
might be able were required to add their quota, towards
the funds of which they were reaping the benefits ; for he
knew the human heart too well not to dread the evils of
idleness ; aware that nothing injures moral integrity so
soon as a willingness to live in a state of indolence,
dependent on the exertion of others. " Happy is he who
supports his neighbour," says St Ambrose; "but woe
unto him who needlessly allows his neighbour to support
him."
This appears to be a model for an infirmary and a
workhouse.
The health of Basil, always delicate, had become very
bad in the year 373, and so continued till his death :
nevertheless, in 374 he commenced his celebrated work,
De Spiritu Sancto ; and in 376 was roused to publish a
40 BAS.
circular, in reply to the calumnies of Eustathius. To his
ill health we may attribute the reserve, and as we should
say, nervousness, of which he has been sometimes accused
by his enemies, and which was regarded by some after
his elevation, as a sign of pride. But, as Gregory asks,
"Is it possible for a man to embrace lepers, abasing
himself so far, and yet be supercilious towards those in
health ?"
At length, worn out by the austerities of his life, the
ardour of his zeal, the extent of his labors, and the
repeated attacks of his disorder, this great man found his
end approaching. He called his friends and disciples
around him, and having blessed them, and commended
them to God, he made such arrangements as he thought
necessary for the Church militant, ere his spirit passed
unto the Church triumphant, and having conjured them
with his dying breath, to hold fast the faith, to be un-
wearied in well-doing, and to love one another, he departed
this life, calmly saying, " Lord Jesus, into Thy hands I
commend my spirit."
His death occurred on the first of January, 379 ; and
never was a death more universally lamented : all persons,
even jews and heathens, went forth to honour his remains
as his body was carried to the grave : and his funeral,
from the prodigious concourse of people that attended it,
including almost all the most dignified persons in the
country, afforded an extraordinary contrast to the poverty
and simplicity of his own habits during life.
The Benedictine edition of St Basil was edited by
Julian Grander, and was published at Paris, in folio, in
17-21, 17 '2'2, and 1730. The Basil edition was published
in 1551, and another folio edition in 1638. — Life of
Basil, in third volume of Benedictine edition. Basilii Opera.
Gregor. Nazian. Cave. Church of the Fathers. Fleury.
TiUcrnont.
Basil. The friend and fellow-student of St Chrysostom,
of whom all that is known is to be gathered from the
BAS. 11
following passage from the first book of St Chrysostom de
Sacerdotio ; that book being the record of certain conver-
sations between St Chrysostom and the subject of the
present article :
" He was one of my constant companions ; we pursued
the same sciences, attended the same instructors ; the
same purposes in learning, the same care was common
to both, and to both, from like matters, like desires arose.
Xor was this only while we were under discipline, but also
when freed from it it behoved us to consider what course
in life was most worthy to be chosen — even then we held
the same opinion.
" There were other things also which preserved unbro-
ken this unanimity. Neither of us could boast himself
above the other on account of distinction of country : I
had no great hope of fortune — he was oppressed by ex-
treme poverty. The similarity of our fortunes kept pace
with our intentions ; our families were of equal rank ; and
in all things we corresponded in our wishes.
" When, however, the time approached for this blessed
man to embrace the monastic life and the true philosophy,
then the balance lost its equilibrium — his scale, from its
lightness, mounted upward ; whilst I, then entangled by
worldly desires, depressed mine overloaded with youthful
fancies. Even here our friendship was as firm as ever,
but our intimacy was interrupted ; nor can it exist between
those who are not united by the same pursuits. Yet, when
I raised my head a little from out the waves of this life,
he seized me with both his hands; but we could no
longer regain our former equality. He had outstripped
me in time, and by unremitting application had soared far
beyond me. So kind was he, and so highly did he estimate
my friendship that, withdrawing himself from all inter-
course with others, he passed all his time with me, which,
as I have said, was previously his wish, but had been pre-
vented by my indifference. Xor was it possible for any
one who attended the courts of justice, and who pursued
d 2
42 BAS.
scenic entertainments, to be intimate with another who
devoted himself to books and never approached the forum.
For this reason, in spite of all former repulse, that he
might allure me to the same course of life with himself,
the desire that he had long laboured with, he quickly gave
birth to ; and suffering no part of the day to be spent away
from me, he assiduously advised our leaving our homes,
and passing our lives together. He gained my consent,
and thus the matter stood. But the endearments of an
anxious mother opposed my granting him this favour, or
rather, my accepting this kindness from him.
" While matters stood thus between us — he frequently
importuning, I in my turn refusing — a rumour newly
risen disturbed us both : it was reported that we were
about to be promoted to the episcopal dignity. When I
heard this I was struck at once with fear and perplexity .
with fear, lest I should be taken against my will ; with
perplexity, when I strove to discover by what means it
had entered mens' minds to think of a matter of this
nature for us. For when I examined myself, I found no
sufficient cause for such an honour. But my generous
friend, coming to me privately, mentioned the rumour to
me, as if I were ignorant of it, and begged we might
here seem as unanimous as before in our designs and
actions. As for him, he was prepared to follow the course
I might adopt, whether rejection or acceptance of the
office. Having perceived therefore in him so ready an
inclination, and having considered, that if through my
infirmity I deprived the flock of Christ of so good a mind,
and one so qualified to guide it, I should do an injury to
the whole church community, I concealed the opinion I
held, though I had never before suffered any of my
designs to be hidden from him ; but telling him it were
better to defer our consideration of this subject to another
time, (nor was it in truth an urgent matter) I soon per-
suaded him to think no more about it ; as far as I was
concerned, I assured him, if the thing should come to
pass, he might rely on my concurrence. After no great
BAS. 48
length of time, as the day for the imposition of hands
drew nigh, I concealed myself unknown to him : my
friend, led on by some other pretence, received ordination,
relying on my promises of following him, or rather he
hoping to follow me. Some of those who were present
witnessing his uneasiness at being thus caught, misled
him by declaring, that it was absurd that he who in all
things appeared to be the bolder of the two, (meaning me)
should yield with so much modesty to the determination
of the fathers ; and that he, usually the milder and the
more prudent, should be so confident and vain as to resist
it. He yielded to these remonstrances : but when he
heard that I had fled purposely, he approached me with
shame and sorrow ; he seated himself near me, and strove
to give utterance to something. But his grief prevented
him ; nor could he summon courage to utter a word, his
anguish of mind cutting off all he intended to say before
it had passed his lips. When, however, I saw him so
bedewed with tears and troubled, knowiDg the cause,
I smiled with delight, and seizing his hand, made an
effort to salute him ; glorifying God, who gave me that
favourable issue to my stratagem, for which I had always
prayed."
In the Benedictiue edition of St Chrysostom, this Basil
is supposed to have been bishop of Rappauea, near
Antioch, a prelate wTho was present at the council of
Constantinople, in 381. Dupin cannot decide whether
this conjecture or another, that he was a bishop of Byblos,
in Phcenicia, be the most probable. — Chrysostom, de
Sacerdotio.
Basil, of Ancyra. Of the personal history of this
Basil little is known ; he was one of the leaders of the
Semi-arian party which existed in the Church during the
fourth century. On referring to the life of Arius, the
reader will perceive what the Arian doctrines are, and
that the heresiarch received the countenance of a party
headed by Eusebius, and thence frequently styled Euse-
44 BAS.
bians. These persons were more anxious to maintain a
party than to establish a dogma, or rather the Arian
dogma was valued by them as the distinction of then-
party, and they were willing to modify or explain their
dogma, according to circumstances : they were especially
desirous of conciliating the Latins, and endeavoured to
persuade them that the difference between themselves and
the orthodox was chiefly verbal, and relating to the word
Homo-ousion. They had in consequence admitted the
use of the term Homoi-ousion, by which it was asserted
that the Son was of a like nature with the Father. But
although the leaders were influenced merely by party
feelings, those who were brought into the vortex of the
party by the circumstances under which they were
placed, and were honest in heart, received the dogma
as a reality, and perplexed the party leaders by binding
them down to the real import of those words, which had
originally been chosen as mere evasions of orthodoxy.
The Homoi-ousion being thus received, many persons
were found to explain it almost in the orthodox sense ;
their dispute with the Catholics did in many instances
become little more than verbal, and hence they were
dealt with gently by such men as St Basil the great.
The Semi-arians were found to be as strongly opposed
to the pure Arians, as those who accepted the Nicene
test. Thus was the word, first invented as an evasion
by the Arians, used as a test against them by the Semi-
arians, who merely refused to accept the Homo-ousion
because they imagined that it implied an approach
to Sabellianism. But although the Semi-arians repudiated
the evasion of the Eusebians or pure Arians, that the
word Son had but a secondary sense, and that our Lord
was in reality a creature, though not like other creatures ;
nevertheless, when they formed a distinct party, their
creed was condemned by the orthodox, as involving those
contradictions in terms, which the Nicene doctrine
escapes : the Semi-arians maintained against the Arians
that the Son was born before all time, and yet they con-
BAS. 45
tended against the Catholics that He was not eternal : in
opposition to the Arians they asserted that He was not a
creature, and yet they refused to assent to the Catholic
truth that He is God : they affirmed Him to be of His
substance, so again opposing the Arians, — yet not of the
same substance, and thus rejecting the Homo-ousion.
Thus they tried to hold the via media in the controversy,
and in so doing were led into these contradictions, which
were gradually discovered by the more earnest-minded
among them, and led them to embrace the Catholic truth.
The Semi- arians seem in fact to have consisted of the
really religious men who were at first involved in the
Arian faction ; and Semi-arianism, with its contradictory
propositions, was the first step towards a return to
orthodoxy.
Such was the party of which Basil of Ancyra was one.
He was a native of Ancyra, and of that see he was made
bishop by the Eusebiau council of Constantinople, in
336, when Marcellus was deposed.
Marcellus had been an energetic defender of the
Catholic faith at Nice, but in defending the truth he
afterwards approached the very verge of Sabellianism,
having contended that the Logos was the eternal wisdom of
God, and could be called the Son of God only whilst dwel-
ling in the human form. He, nevertheless, so explained
his positions as to maintain or recover his orthodoxy,
which was acknowledged by Julius, bishop of Rome, by
St Athanasius, and by the council of Sardica; although on
the other hand, later Catholic Fathers, Basil the great, St
Chrysostom, and others, condemn him. Against him
Basil employed his pen, in a work which has been lost.
But whatever was the character of the doctrine taught by
Marcellus, his pupil, Photinus, bishop of Smyrna, taught
Sabellianism without disguise, and was condemned, not
only by the Eusebians at the council of Antioch, in 343,
but even by the western church, at a council held at
Milan, in 346. At the first council of Sirmium, in 351,
he met a formidable opponent in Basil ; a disputation
46 BAS.
being carried on between them in the presence of Con-
stantius. Photinus was formally deprived of his bishopric.
Basil, having thus attacked a heresy in the one ex-
treme, encountered the opposite heresy at the second
synod of Sirmium, in 357, where the pure Arians first
met with an organized opposition from a section of their
own party. The pure Arians were in this synod the
stronger party, and rejected every form of the Homoi-
ousion doctrine. They were henceforth known by the
name of Anomseans, persons who held the Son to be
unlike the Father, — adopting the notions of Arius without
any variation. Basil, to oppose them, assembled a synod
at Ancyra, in 358, at which the Semi-arian doctrine was
confirmed and the Arian rejected. Through the persua-
sive eloquence of Basil, the emperor Constantius was led
to unite himself with the Semi-arian party, and a third
synod at Sirmium, in 358, rejected the confession of faith
adopted at the second, and confirmed the anathemas of
the synod of Ancyra. From this time the strife between
the Arians and Semi-arians was incessant, and the faction
destroyed itself, while Catholic truth was every where
gaining ground.
Basil used all his influence with the emperor to obtain
the convocation of an oecumenical council, but counter
influence was used by the Eusebians, under Acacius, of
Caesarea, and the intrigues on both sides ended in the
meeting of a double council, one at Seleucia, and the
other at Ariminum ; the first for the prelates of the east,
and the other for those of the west. Although the council
of Seleucia had sanctioned the Semi-arian creed, Con-
stantius was persuaded by deputies from both councils,
and by the influence of Acacius, to believe that Basil was
the sole impediment to the peace of the the Church. He
summoned a council of neighbouring bishops, chiefly
those of Bithynia : various charges of a civil and ecclesi-
astical nature were here alleged against Basil and other
Semi-arians, with what degree of truth it is impossible at
BAS. 47
this day to determine, and sentence of deposition was
pronounced against them. This was in the year 360.
Of Basil nothing more is heard except that he pre-
sented a petition for restitution to the orthodox em-
peror Jovian, in 364, without success. He probably
died in exile. — Maimbourg. Newman. Fleury. Gfuiseler.
Lardner.
Basil, Martyr and Saint, was a priest of Ancyra, and
a contemporary of the bishop, to whom the preceding
article refers. He distinguished himself by his orthodoxy
when the court was Arian, and was suspended from his
priestly functions by the Arian council of Constantinople,
in 360.
When Julian the apostate re-established idolatry, and
left no means untried to pervert the faithful, Basil ran
through the whole city, exhorting the Christians to
continue stedfast, and not pollute themselves with the
sacrifices and libations of the heathens, but fight manfully
in the cause of God. The heathens laid violent hands
on him, and dragged him before Satuminus, the pro-
consul, accusing him of sedition, of having overturned
altars, that he stirred up the people against the gods, and
had spoken irreverently of the emperor and his religion.
The proconsul asked him if the religion which the emperor
had established was not the truth? The martyr an-
swered : ' Can you yourself believe it ? Can any man
endued with reason persuade himself that dumb statues
are gods ?' The proconsul commanded him to be tortured
on the rack, and scoffing, said to him, under his torments :
' Do not you believe the power of the emperor to be great,
who can punish those who disobey him ? Experience is
an excellent master, and will inform you better. Obey
the emperor, worship the gods, and offer sacrifice.' The
martyr, who prayed during his torments, with great
earnestness, replied: 'It is what I never will do.' The
proconsul remanded him to prison, and informed his
master Julian of what he had done. The emperor
48 BAS.
approved of his proceedings, and dispatched Elpidius and
Pegasus, two apostate courtiers, in quality of commissa-
ries, to assist the proconsul in the trial of the prisoner.
They took with them from Nicomedia one Asclepius, a
wicked priest of Esculapius, and arrived at Ancyra.
Basil did riot cease to praise and glorify God in his
dungeon, and Pegasus repaired thither to him, in hopes
by promises arjd intreaties, to work him into compliance :
but he came back to the proconsul highly offended at the
liberty with which the martyr had reproached him with
his apostacy. At the request of the commissaries, the
proconsul ordered him to be again brought before them,
and tormented on the rack with greater cruelty than
before ; and afterwards to be loaded with the heaviest
irons, and lodged in the deepest dungeon.
When Julian arrived at Ancyra, he put Basil to death,
under circumstances of peculiar horror, commanding his
skin to be torn off in several places. This happened in
362. Alban Butler concludes his notice of this saint with
the following observations :
" The love of God, which triumphed in the breasts of
the martyrs, made them regard as nothing whatever
labours, losses, or torments, they suffered for its sake,
according to that of the canticles : If a man shall have
given all that he piossesses, he will despise it as nothing. If
the sacrifice of worldly honours, goods, friends, and life,
be required of such a one, he makes it with joy, saying
with the royal prophet, What have I desired in heaven, or
on earth, besides Thee, 0 God ! Thou art my portion for
ever. If he lives deprived of consolation, and joy, in
interior desolation and spiritual dryness, he is content to
bear his cross, provided he be united to his God by love,
and says, my God and my all, if I possess You, I have all
things in You alone : whatever happens to me, with the
treasure of Your love I am rich and sovereignly happy.
This he repeats in poverty, disgraces, afflictions, and
persecutions. He rejoices in them, as by them he is
more closely united to his God, gives the strongest proof
BAS. 40
of His fidelity to him, and perfect submission to His divine
appointments, and adores the accomplishment of His will.
If it be the property of true love, to receive crosses with
content and joy, to sustain great labours, and think them
small, or rather not to think of them at all, as they bear
no proportion to the prize, to what we owe to God, or to
what His love deserves : to suffer much, and think all
nothing, and the longest and severest trials short : is it
not a mark of a want of this love, to complain of prayer,
fasts, and every Christian duty ? How far is this dis-
position from the fervour and resolution of all the saints,
and from the heroic courage of the martyrs ?" — Allan
Butler.
Basil, archbishop of Seleucia, a city of Isauria, flou-
rished in the time of the Eutychian controversy, or the
middle of the fifth century. He was present at the
council of Constantinople in 448, and then he joined in
the condemnation of Eutyches and his heresy. But in
the council of Ephesus, under Dioscorus, in 449, he
joined in the condemnation of Flavian and of the Catholic
faith. He returned to orthodoxy, and apologized for
his conduct at the council of Chalcedon, in 451. From
this it would appear that he was not a man of very
fixed principles. His works are numerous, and still
extant. An account of them is given by Dupin, but
they do not appear to be of much importance. Photinus
speaks of him as an imitator of St Chrysostom, but Dupin
remarks that the homilies of the celebrated patriarch of
Constantinople consist of two parts ; in the first he ex-
plains Scripture according to the letter, and joins to it
some moral reflections ; in the second, St Chrysostom
takes in hand some moral doctrine, which he treats of at
considerable length. Basil of Seleucia meddles not with
the last part, but contents himself with imitating the first.
— Dupin. Tillemont. Cave.
vol. u. b
50 BAS.
Basilides. A gnostic, whose native land was Syria, or
a province more to the east ; according to Tillemont he
left the Church in the time of Trajan, and appeared
chiefly in the time of Adrian. Basnage represents him
as flourishing in the year 121; Mill, in the year 123;
Cave, in 112, or soon after. He certainly lived near the
time of the Apostles, and we are told by Clement, of
Alexandria, that Basilides, or his followers, boasted that
he had been taught by Glaucias, a disciple of St Peter.
Theodoret says that Menander was his master.
The following is the account of his heresy given by
St Irenseus :
"Basilides taught that from the self-existent Father was
born Nous or Understanding ; of Nous, Logos ; of Logos,
Phronesis, Prudence or Providence ; of Phronesis, Sophia
and Dunamis, Wisdom and Power ; of Dunamis and
Sophia, Powers, Principalities, and Angels, whom they
call the superior angels, by whom the first heaven was
made ; from these proceeded other angels and other
heavens, to the number of 365, both angels and heavens :
and therefore there are so many days in the year answer-
able to the number of the heavens. Farther they say
that the angels which uphold the lower heaven, seen by
us, made all things in this world, and then divided the
earth among themselves. And the chief of these, they
say, is he who is thought to be the God of the jews. And
because he would bring other nations into subjection to
the jews, the other princes opposed him, and other nations
opposed that people. But the self-existent and ineffable
Father seeing them in danger of being ruined, sent his
first begotten Nous, who also is said to be Christ, for the
salvation of such as believe in Him, and to deliver them
from the tyranny of the makers of the world ; and that
He appeared on earth as man and wrought miracles ; but
He did not suffer : for Simon of Cyrene being compelled
to bear the cross, was crucified for Him ; he was trans-
formed into the likeness of Jesus, and Jesus took the
BAS. 51
shape of Simon, and stood by looking on, and laughing at
the error and ignorance of those who thought they had
Him in their power ; after which He ascended to heaven.
They who understand these things are to be delivered
from the princes of this world. They also hold that men
ought not to confess him who was crucified, but Him who
came in the form of man, and was supposed to be cruci-
fied, and was called Jesus, and was sent of the Father,
that by this dispensation He might destroy the works of
the makers of the world. He likewise taught that the
soul only would be saved, for the body is in its own nature
corruptible, and incapable of immortality. He moreover
says that the prophecies are from the princes, makers of
the world, and that the law was given by the chief of
them who brought the people out of the land of iEgypt
They make light of things offered to idols, and partake of
them without scruple. And all other actions, and all
kinds of lewdness, are looked upon by them as indifferent.
They practice magic also, and incantations. They have
distributed the local positions of the three hundred and
sixty-five heavens, just as the mathematicians do. For
they have adopted their theorems, and introduced them
into their scheme ; the prince of which they call Abraxas,
that nime having in it the number three hundred and
sixty-five."
It is probable that Basilides did not die before the be-
ginning of the reign of Antoninus Pius. — Irenaus. Frag-
ments of his writings occur in Clemens Alexandrinus and
Epiphanius. Lardner.
Basire, Isaac de Preaumont, was born at Piouen, in
Normandy, 1607. In 16*23 he was sent to the college at
Roterdam, his parents being protestants. Of his early
years nothing is known; but he came to England,
and, having been received into the Church, was ordain-
ed by Morton, bishop of Lichfield, in the year 1629,
and thenceforward he adopted England as his coun-
try. We find him in 1631 filling the office of chaplain
b-> BAS.
to bishop Morton, at Eccleshall castle ; his letters of
naturalization are dated the year following. In 1632
Morton was translated to Durham, and there, as well as
at Aukland, he had the honour to entertain king Charles
the martyr ; and there, too, Basire first learned to feel a
personal regard, in addition to his loyal feelings, for that
prince. Basire was at this time a hard student, as in
writing to Vossius he tells him that he is studying the
Greek fathers, " whose writings he holds as only inferior
in authority to the holy scriptures." In 1635 he was
married to Miss Corbet, a lady of good family in Shrop-
shire. His letters to this lady, and to other persons at
this period of his life, shew the deep abiding piety of his
heart. The reader of the correspondence is struck par-
ticularly with the real comfort which Basire and his
friends derived from their faith in the efficacy of inter-
cessory prayer. He was frequently applied to by his
friends to assist them in their charitable designs, and was
never appealed to in vain. One letter, from Nathaniel
Ward, vicar of Staindross, who afterwards died fighting
for his king and country against the rebels, is interesting,
as giving a picture of the times.
" A report has probably reached you of the fire, which
broke out in my parish last Friday, about three o'clock in
the morning, and in a very short space of time completely
destroyed the cottages of three families, and reduced to
ashes fourteen large stacks of corn. Two of the persons
who have suffered this heavy loss are papists, plunged in
the deepest mire of superstition, whom I have often tried
in vain to recal to more just views of religion : but
enough remains for them to live comfortably. The third,
who is much poorer than the others, is an honest pious
man, who about eight weeks since deserted the camp of
the papists, and took refuge in our Catholic Church. He
has two infant sons, and an excellent wife, who, when a
servant, could never be induced to swerve from the true
faith by the threats of her masters, and since she was
married has in like manner resisted the attempts of her
BAS. 58
husband to convert her. She expects her confinement
soon after Christmas ; but her clothes, beds, and bedding,
all her furniture, and every thing she had prepared for
her lying-in, have been consumed by the fire ; so that I
have been obliged to take the man and his family into
my own house, till God above shall look down in mercy,
and raise up friends to relieve him in his extreme want
and misery. The man's name is Francis Laifield. I
begged a little charity for him yesterday ; and yet, though
my flock have given proof of the most benevolent feelings,
I could not collect enough to procure necessaries for this
poor fellow and his pregnant wife. If therefore you have
no objection, I wish you would lay their wants next
Sunday before your congregation, and extort alms from
them in the name of Christ. For the man is now
deserted by the papists, because he has come back to us —
otherwise, they give out that they would have made up
his losses with interest. I hope, nay I almost feel, that
God will graciously give this man such favour in the eyes
of other people, that he will not stand in need of assist-
ance from the papists, nor ever have reason to regret that
he has bid adieu to Egypt, and sheltered himself in our
holy land. If you collect any thing for him, you may
send it by the steward, or by your servant, to Anthony
Miller ; and I shall employ some faithful messenger to
demand your benevolence of him, at the first opportunity
which offers. I shall feel extremely obliged to you if you
will comply with my request, and be assured that I shall
endeavour, as far as in my power, to return your kindness.
Farewell, and pray for me. Be so good as to write, and
let me know whether your wife has yet been confined.
God preserve her from all danger under the shadow of
His wings."
In 1636 the degree of BD. was conferred upon him
by the university of Cambridge, in compliance with the
king's mandate, and in the course of the same year he
was presented by the bishop of Durham to the living of
e 2
54 BAS.
Egglescliffe, in that county. In 1640 lie took his degree
of DD., and in 1641 he was sworn chaplain extraordinary
to Charles I. and was thus led to an occasional attendance
at the court at Whitehall, at a time when the king needed
to he surrounded by loyal subjects ; for the presbyterian
leaven was spreading destructively through England, and
the London petition had been presented, calling for a
total change of religion, and overthrow of the Church,
signed by 16,000 persons.
On the 12th of December, 1643, Dr Basire was col-
lated to the 7th stall in Durham, by his patron bishop
Morton, and in the August following he was appointed
archdeacon of Northumberland. These appointments,
as Mr Darnell observes, however complimentary to Basire,
were merely nominal, the progress of the civil war
having placed the duties and the emoluments of such
offices alike in abeyance. Two years after, he is under-
stood to have been besieged eleven months in Carlisle.
Hutchinson states that the city underwent a close
blockade, and that the inhabitants suffered much for
want of food. Horses, dogs, and rats, were eaten ; and
hempseed substituted for bread as long as the siege
lasted.
In 1645 Basire was nominated to the living of Stan-
hope ; and in June, 1646, he was summoned by the earl
of Dorset to be in waiting upon the king : but the king
had been bought and sold before Basire could attempt to
obey ; and -Basire himself having been imprisoned in
Stockton castle, in 16i7, made his escape and took refuge
in France.
A total want of the means of subsistence for himself
and his family seems to have driven him abroad. Mrs
Basire was left at Egglescliffe with four children, and
pregnant with another, to struggle, as well as she could,
for the allowance promised by the parliament to the wives
and families of delinquent clergymen. This pittance
went by the name of fifths, and was supposed to be the
BAS. 55
fifth part of their estates and goods seized upon by
parliament ; and by the help of the " committee of seques-
tration,-' and the "committee of plundered ministers,"
appropriated to this purpose. We learn, however, from
contemporary writers that this was quite an imaginary
apportionment, " so that as one truly and sadly said the
fifths were even paid at sixes and sevens," — " which,
however, is true only in the proverbial, and not in the
literal sense, (as bad as that would have been) for I shall
by and by shew, that in those few instances that I find
them paid, it was for the most part after the rate of tens
and twelves." " And truly," says another writer, " their
ordinance for the fifth part, doth generally prove a mere
mockery to the wives and children of the clergy in the
midst of their heavy persecution, and a snare to draw
them into expense of their last groat, in hopes to get their
so fairly promised morsel ; which, as I have known very
few obtain it effectually, so have many of them after some
years of chargeable and vexatious attendance been wearied
out, buying at too dear a rate their repentance of believing
or hoping any justice or mercy from the puritan faction."
x^nthony Wood expressly tells us that " no presbyterian
or independent was ever known to allow any loyalist,
whose places they had occupied for several years, the
least farthing; but rather rejected and avoided them,
vilified, scorned, and exposed them to the plebeians, as
empty, formal, and starched nothings." The subterfuges
employed by the commissioners to evade the payment of
the fifths committed to their charge, are detailed at length
by Fuller in his ecclesiastical history.
It was from Egglescliffe alone that Mrs Basire had
any chance of obtaining a maintenance. The college of
Durham had ceased to exist, and an intra der had estab-
lished himself at Stanhope.
From this time, separated from his family, and, in the
quaint language of Walker, " sequestered, pursevanted,
plundered, and forced to fly," having been thrice shut up
in the seiges of Carlisle and Oxford, and in a confinement
56 BAS.
in Stockton castle, he was a wanderer on the face of the
earth. Going first to his paternal estate at Rouen, he
travelled thence with a few pupils, first into Italy, and so
on into the east. His correspondence, published by the
Rev Mr Darnell, the present worthy rector of Stanhope, is
deeply interesting, and the letters from his wife, though
the orthography is most extraordiuary, are valuable as
shewing the difficulties with which religious and loyal
persons had to contend during the rebellion. It would not
accord with the design of this publication to follow Dr
Basire in his travels, but the following letter to " sir
Richard Brown, resident at Paris, for his majesty of Great
Britain," will make manifest the right feelings which
attended him wherever he went.
" Sie, I have according to my duty acquainted you,
from time to time, with the several passages of my now
seven years voyage. In my last from Aleppo (as yet
unanswered) I gave you an account of my stay in Zantes,
and of my success there, in spreading amongst the Greeks
the Catholic doctrine of our Church, the sum whereof I
imparted to sundry of them in a vulgar Greek translation
of our Church Catechism, the product whereof was so
notable that it drew envy, and consequently persecution
upon me from the Latins. This occasioned my volun-
tary recess into the Morea, where the metropolitan of
Achaia prevailed with me to preach twice in Greek at
a meeting of some of his bishops and clergy, and it was
well taken. At parting I left with him the like copy
" ut supra." From thence, after I had passed through
Apulia, Naples, and Sicily again (in which last at
Messina in Dr Duncom's absence I did for some weeks
officiate aboard a ship) I embarked for Syria, where,
after some months stay in Aleppo, where I had fre-
quent conversation with the patriarch of Antioch, then
resident there, I left a copy of our catechism translated
into Arabic, the native language there. From Aleppo,
I went this last year to Jerusalem, and so travelled
BA>. 5?
over all Palestina. At Jerusalem I received much honour,
both from the Greeks and Latins. The Greek patriarch
(the better to express his desire of communion with our
old church of England by me declared unto himj gave
me this bull or patriarchal seal in a blank (which is
their way of credence) besides many other respects. As
for the Latins, they received me most courteously into
their own convent, though I did openly profess myself
a priest of the church of England. After some velita-
tions about the validity of our ordination, they procured
me entrance into the temple of the sepulchre, at the
rate of a priest, that is half in half less than the lay-
men's rate ; and at my departure from Jerusalem the
pope's ovni vicar (called Commissarius Apostolicus Gene-
ralis) gave me his diploma in parchment under his own
hand and public seal, in it stiling me Sacerdotem
Ecclesiae Angiicanae and S. S. Theologiae Doctorem ; at
which title many marvelled, especially the French am-
bassador here. Returning to Aleppo, I passed over
Euphrates and went into Mesopotamia, (Abraham's
country) whither I am now intending to send our
catechism in Turkish to some of their bishops, Arme-
nians most of them. This Turkish translation is pro-
cured by the good care of sir Thomas Bendyshe, ambas-
dour here. After my return from Mesopotamia, I
wintered at Aleppo, where I may not pass under
silence sundry courtesies I have received from the civil
consul, Mr Henry Riley. This last spring I departed
from Aleppo, and came hither by land (six hundred
miles all alone, I mean without either servant, or Chris-
tian, or any man with me that could so much as speak
the Frank language. Yet by the help of some Arabic
I had picked up at Aleppo, I did perform this journey in
the company of twenty Turks, who used me courteously,
the rather because I was their physician, and of their
friends by the way (a study whereunto the iniquity of
the times, and the opportunity of Padua, did drive me)
so by the good hand of God upon me I arrived safe
53 BAS
hither, where I wish the temper of our age would per-
mit me to express my welcome many ways, into the
house of the lord ambassador, sir Thomas Bendyshe.
Since my arrival hither, the French Protestants here
have taken hold of me ; and after I had declared unto
them my resolution to officiate according to our liturgy,
(the translation whereof, for want of a printed copy, cost
me no little labour,) they have as yet hitherto orderly
submitted to it, and j)romised to settle me, in three
salvable men's hands, a competent stipend : and all this
as they tell me, with the express consent of the French
ambassador, but still under the roof and protection
(eatenus) of the English ambassador. How long this
liberty may last I know not, because they are all of
them bred after the Geneva discipline, and consequently
not like to persevere, or to be suffered to go on in our
way; out of which, God willing, I am resolved not to
depart, though for it I lose this, as I have lost all.
Meanwhile, as I have not been unmindful of our church,
with the true patriarch here, whose usurper now for a
while doth interpose, so will I not be wanting to em-
brace all opportunities of propagating the doctrine and
repute thereof, stylo veteri ; especially if I should about
it receive any commands or instructions from the king,
(whom God save) only in ordine ad Ecclesiastica do I
speak this ; as for instance, proposal of communion
with the Greek church (salva conscientia et honore) a
church very considerable in all those parts. And to such
a communion, together with a convenient reformation of
some grosser errors, it hath been my constant design to
dispose and incline them. Haply, some months hence,
before I leave these parts, I shall pass into Egypt, that
I may take a survey of the churches of the Cophtics, and
confer with the patriarch of Alexandria, as I have done
already with the other three patriarchs, partly to acquire
the knowledge of those churches, and partly to publish
ours " quantum fert status." All along as I have gone,
I have collated the several confessions of faith of the
BAS 59
several sorts of Christians, Greeks, Armenians, Jacobites,
Maronites, &c, which confessions I have with me in their
own languages. I should now long for a comfortable
postliminium to my family, but yet I am resolved rather
intermori in these toilsome ecclesiastical peregrinations,
than to decline the least on either hand from my religion
or allegiance. And oh ! that it were with our church as
whilhome when God Almighty did shine upon our ways,
and uphold both the staves thereof, " beauty and bands ;"
but patience, " hoc erat in votis ; " and to recover both
shall be the prayer and endeavour of,
" Sir, your &c.'"
" Pera, near Constantinople,
20 Julii, 1653."'
The friendly intercourse of an English priest with the
churches of the east is always a subject of deep interest ;
divided as the western church is and is likely to remain.
While he was at Constantinople, in 1654, he received an
invitation from George Eacoczi, prince of Transylvania, to
settle in that country, and he was made by the prince
divinity professor in his newly founded university of Alba
Julia, or Weissenburg. There he remained, endeavouring
to bring about a reformation in religion on the principles
of the English church, till the restoration of king Charles
the second.
He returned to England in 1661 : Evelyn in his diary
thus alludes to him :
"10 July, 1661. In the afternoon preached at the
abbey Dv Basire, that great traveller, or rather French
apostle, who had been planting the church of England in
divers parts of the Levant and Asia. He shewed that the
church of England was for purity of doctrine, substance,
decency and beauty, the most perfect under heaven ; that
England was the very land of Goshen.
" Oct. 29, 1662. I went to court this evening, and had
much discourse with Dr Basire, one of his majesty's
chaplains, who shewed me the syngraphs and original
60 BAS.
subscriptions of divers Eastern patriarchs and Asian
churches to our confession."
He was restored to his preferments, though there was
some difficulty at first to persuade the intruder at
Stanhope, " Anthony Lamant, a Scottish man," to resign
the living to its right owner, and to accept another. The
joy of Dr Basire at being permitted to return to his
family was great, and he entered heartily and zealously
upon his pastoral and other duties. His sense of clerical
responsibility is expressed in a letter to his son Isaac :
" Preaching is a good work, catechizing is a better work,
prayer is best of all." His son Isaac being in London,
mentions that he had called upon his father's old friend,
Dr Busby, who in parting blessed him : and the custom
both of praying for one another, and of asking for the
sacerdotal blessing, seems not at that time to have de-
parted from the English church, for in another letter
Isaac, in writing to his father on some business, states
that "my lord bishop of Carlisle brought me to the bishop
of Exeter, who, upon my begging it, laid his hands upon
me and blessed me." Dr Basire died in 1676: the
following is an extract from his last will and testament :
" In the name of God the Father, God the Son, and
God the Holy Ghost, three persons and one God, blessed
for ever, Amen, I, Isaac Basire, doctor in divinity and (un-
worthy) archdeacon of Northumberland, being at present
in perfect understanding and memory, praised be God,
but having of late years been summoned by diverse in-
firmities, and put in mind of my mortality and death, now
not far of, do make and ordain this my last will and tes-
tament in manner and form following : that is to say,
first, I do in all humility resign my soul unto Almighty
God, the Father of spirits, trusting wholly and only in the
all-sufficient merit, mediation, and full satisfaction of my
Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, who suffered death upon
the cross for me and all mankind. And I do declare
that as I have lived, so I do die, with comfort, in the holy
communion of the church of England, both for doctrine
BAS. 61
and discipline. And I do further protest, that having
taken a serious survey of most Christian churches, both
eastern and western, I have not found a parallel of the
church of England, both for soundness of apostolical doc-
trine and catholic discipline. Item. I desire my executor
to dispose of my body for decent and frugal burial in the
church- j ard ; not out of any singularity, which I always
declined when I was living, but out of veneration of the
house of G od, though I am not ignorant of the contrary
custom : but I do forbid a funeral sermon, although I know
the antiquity and utility of such sermons in the primitive
church to encourage the Christians of those times unto
martyrdom."
Then follow many charitable bequests to his several
parishes, and to the choir of the cathedral church of
Durham.
His works are, " Deo et Ecclesiae Sacrum ; Sacrilege
Arraigned and Condemned by St Paul, Romans ii. 22."
"Diatriba de antiqua Ecclesiae Britannicse libertate." This
was found in the lord Hopton's cabinet, after his decease,
by Richard Watson an exile for his loyalty, who caused it
to be printed at Bruges, and translated it into English,
and published it under the title of "the Ancient liberty
of the Britannic Church." "The history of English and
Scotch Presbytery;" "Oratio privata boni Theologi (spe-
ciatim concionatoris practici) partes praecipuas complex
tens;" "The dead man's real speech; being a sermon
on Heb. xi. 4, at the funeral of Dr John Cosin, late
bishop of Durham, 29th of April, 1672 ; together with a
brief account of the life, actions, and sufferings of the
said bishop :" from this publication we extract the follow-
ing passage :
" And now he is dead, and who knows but that God
took him away from the evil to come ? And as great as
he was, you may see now, that a small plat of ground
must contain and confine him. Sic transit gloria mundi.
He can carry none of all those dignities to his grave ; only
vol. n. f
69 BAS.
his faith and good works do attend him to his grave, and
beyond his grave, for his works do follow him, and that a?
high as heaven, where he now rests from his labours; but
without faith and good works, when a man is dead, vanity
of vanities, all is vanity."
•• This great man was greater by his actions and great
benefactions, concerning which, when in the prosecution
of his great building's, he was interpelled by some with
the mention of his children, his usual answer was, the
Church is my first born: a noble speech, yea a divine sen-
tence, worthy of a king, who may envy it out of a bishop's
mouth. He was greatest of all by his constant sufferings,
in which sen-e John Baptist is styled, ■ Magnus coram
Domino;' not so much for his doings, (though they were
great,) for John * did no miracles/ as for his sufferings;
in which sense our late bishop was greatest, for he was a
constant confessor for Christ and his true religion, and is
but one degree removed from the ' noble army of martyrs,'
into whose blessed society our hope is, that he is now
gathered.'' — The Correspondence of Isaac Basire, DD. pub-
lished by TV. X. Darnell, BD. rector of Stanhope. Wood's
Fasti. Hutchinson's Best of Durham. Walker.
Basnage, Benjamin, a French protestant, was born in
1580. He succeeded his father as minister of the church
of Carentan. in Normandy, and assisted at the national
synod of Charenton. He was also deputy from the French
protestants to James VI. of Scotland. A work by him,
entitled a treatise on the Church, has been much esteemed.
He died in 1653. — Moreri.
Basnage, Anthony, eldest son of the preceding, was
born in 1610. He became minister of Bayeux, and
at the age of seventy-five was thrown into prison at
Havre de Grace. On recovering his liberty, he retired
into Holland, and died at Zutphen in 1691. His son,
Samuel Basnage de Flatinanville. succeeded him in his
congregation at Bayeux, but he was also forced to leave
BAS. 63
France in 1685, and retired to Zutphen, where he died in
IT 21. He wrote Exercitations on Baronius, which he
published in 1706, under the title of Annales politico-
ecclesiastici, 3 vols folio. Of this author Dowling re-
marks : the " Annals of Samuel Basnage, which appear-
ed in 1706, may be described as a work of learning. But
the author avowedly wrote with a controversial purpose.
He was devoted to the doctrines and discipline of the
reformed communion; and he had not the genius and
originality which have sometimes enabled writers of
equally exclusive principles, to exert an influence on the
whole Christian world." — Moreri. Doirfing.
Basnage, James, the celebrated ecclesiastical historian,
was born at Rouen in 1653. He was educated, first at
Saumur, and next at Geneva, after which he became
Huguenot minister at Rouen, but on the revocation of the
edict of Nantes, he retired to Rotterdam. In 1709 he
was chosen one of the pastors of the Walloon congregation
at the Hague ; and he was also employed in state affairs.
The French ambassadors in Holland were directed to
apply to him for his counsel, and in return for his ser-
vices, he obtained the restoration of all his property in
France. He died in 1723. His principal works are —
1. Histoire de la Religion des Eglises Reformees, of which
the best edition is that in 2 vols quarto, 1725. 2. Histoire
de l'Eglise depuis Jesus Christ jusqua present, 2 vols
folio. 3. Histoire de l'Ancien et du Nouveau Testament,
folio. 4. Histoire des Juifs, 15 vols 12mo. This has
been translated into English, in 2 vols folio. Dupin hav-
ing reprinted this work, and adapted it to the doctrines of
the church of Rome, the author was induced to publish
another volume, entitled, L 'Histoire des Juifs reclamee et
retablie, par son veritable auteur, 12mo. 5. Entretiens
sur la Religion, 2 vols 12mo. 6. Antiquites Judaiques,
2 vols 8vo. 7. Annales des Provinces Unies, 2 vols folio.
8, Dissertation Historiques sur les Duels et les Ordres de
BAS.
Chevalerie. Besides these publications, he wrote many
others on polemical and practical divinity.
The remarks of Mr Dowling on Samuel Basnage have
been given above ; Mr Dowling's " Introduction to the
critical study of Ecclesiastical history" is a work of such
learning and impartiality that his early death is to be
deplored as a public loss. His observations on James
Basnage are now presented to the reader.
" The controversial warfare which was occasioned by
the persecuting measures adopted by Louis XIV. towards
his calvinistic subjects, was carried on with more than
common bitterness and animosity. The protestant writers
who took part in it, had most of them suffered from the
tyranny of the oppressor. They had been the victims of
grievous injustice ; and they were not more affected by a
sense of their wrongs, than they were indignant to find
insult added to injury, in the affected mildness and mode-
ration of the writings in which some of their most unfeel-
ing and unrelenting enemies appealed to the world. In-
fluenced as they were by the feelings natural to their
peculiar circumstances, they were not in a condition to
pursue, with success, the study of church-history. Irrita-
tion and resentment ill prepared them for an employ
which may well be called sacred. It would have been but
pious, if, like the hero of the iEneid, they had regarded
themselves as polluted, in combating even for their
homes, and scrupled to handle a hallowed thing till they
were able to think and write with calmness.
Me, bello e tanto digressum et caede recenti,
Adtrectare nefas ; donee me flumine vivo
Abluero.
But their very unfitness operated as a stimulus to their
activity. They were eager to wrest from their antagonists
every weapon which could be used against them. They
were more anxious to obtain a victory, than scrupulous
about the means by which it might be achieved, or soli-
citous about the consequences by which it might be fol-
BAS. 65
lowed. And, accordingly, we find that in maintaining
their own views of the subject, and impugning those of
their opponents, they did not hesitate to assail the most
venerable facts, nor to call in question the most sacred
principles.
" The most important work which was produced under
the circumstances to which I allude, was the " Histoire
de l'Eglise" of the celebrated Jacques Basnage. It was
professedly written in reply to the " Histoire des Varia-
tions des Eglises Protestantes" of Bossuet. He met the
argument of that artful attack on protestantism in a way
little calculated to serve the cause of Christianity, and
followed his countryman Jurieu in plying the invidious
task of exposing the inconsistencies of the ancient Church.
Anxious at all hazards to gain an advantage over his
eloquent opponent, he traces the history of the govern-
ment, the doctrine and worship of the Church, carefully
pointing out the variations which have prevailed in dif-
ferent times and countries. His extensive learning and
great acuteness well fitted him for historical inquiries,
and I am not aware that there is any reason to suspect his
personal orthodoxy. But though bearing the character of
a Christian minister, Basnage was a man of the world,
and had evidently little feeling for the sacredness of
church-history. His book is not only essentially a work
of controversy, but is withal disfigured by the pertness
and flippancy not unfrequent in French writers, and an
unfortunate tone of levity and satire. An affectation of
moderation ill conceals the partizan and the davocate.
We look in vain for impartiality in one who displays
alternately the captiousness of the sceptic, and the ob-
stinacy of the bigot. He had no correct conception of the
objects of church-history, nor any acquaintance with the
true genius of historical composition ; yet his keen and
searching exposures of the prejudices of his opponents,
and his ingenious vindication of his own, entitle his work
to attention. It exercised a considerable influence on
f-2
66 BAX.
future inquirers ; but it was an influence which was not
salutary. Its effect was rather to retard than accelerate
the progress of the science. He was rather a man of de-
tail, than of elevated or comprehensive views; and his
example rather tended to perpetuate the polemical man-
ner which others, who made less pretension to liberality,
had begun tacitly to abandon, than to raise his subject to
the dignity of genuine history." — Moreri. Dowling.
Baxter, Richard, was born in 1615, at Rowton, in
Shropshire. If credit is to be given to the statements
of Baxter, the reformation had, at this period, effected
no further good in our Church, than that of correct-
ing our formularies, and of restoring them to their pri-
mitive simplicity. By his account the clergy were
more corrupt after the reformation than they had been
before : he scarcely knew a clergyman who was not an
ignoramus and a drunkard ; and as for his tutors, they
were all guilty of that idleness of which in our own age
they are accustomed sometimes to accuse their pupils.
But we must make allowance for considerable exaggera-
tion in his statements, as they were not made until he
had become prejudiced against the Church, and his
prejudices led him unintentionally to recur to the past
with a jaundiced eye. Besides, we must always bear in
mind a peculiarity of this distinguished man, who through
life had a tendency to ^consider all men in the wrong,
more or less, except himself. Self-will was perhaps his
besetting sin, and as he formed no sect, so now he has no
place, but stands solitary among theologians. If what he
says of the clergy be true, in that statement archbishop
Laud may find his justification for the zeal with which
he attempted a reform.
But we must do him the justice to say, that if he is
severe on the governors and companions of his youth, he
does not spare himself, for he confesses that he was
addicted to lying, theft, levity, and disobedience to his
BAX. 67
parents : the Holy Spirit Who had been given to him in
his baptism, and Whom he thus grieved, did not leave
him without a warning, for he admits that through his
conscience he was often reproached for these offences,
though he knew not then, and did not, even in after life.
recognize, the sacred Person from whom the warning
came, and that besides the iniquity of the conduct, he
committed the further offence of sinning away baptismal
grace. He was the more without excuse for that he was
trained by pious parents, who were " free from all disaffec-
tion to the then government of the Church, and from all
scruples concerning its doctrine, worship, or discipline ;
they never spake against bishops, or the prayer book, or
the ceremonies of the Church ; but they ' prayed to God
always,' though always by a book or form, generally a
form at the end of the book of common prayer ; they read
the Scriptures in their family, especially on the Lords
day, when others were dancing under a may-pole not far
from their door, to their great interruption and annoy-
ance ; they reproved drunkards, swearers, and other evil
doers ; and they were glad to converse about the Scriptures
and the world to come ; for all which they escaped not the
revilings of the ungodly." Of his father, he further says,
" It pleased God to instruct him, and to change him bv
the bare reading of the Scriptures in private ; and God
made him the instrument of my first convictions and
approbation of a holy life, as well as my restraint from the
grosser sort of livers. When I was very young, his serious
speeches of God, and of the life to come, possessed me
with a fear of sinniug. At first, he set me to read the
historical parts of Scripture, which greatly delighted me ;
and though I neither understood nor relished the doc-
trinal part, yet it did me good by acquainting me with
the matters of fact, and drawing me on to love the Bible,
and to search, by degrees, into the rest." It will be
observed here incidentally, what has been remarked in
the life of Aylmer, that the prohibition of sports on the
Lord's day was not introduced by the reformers, but by
68 BAX.
the puritans, the Lord's day being a feast, and not a fast ;
when Baxter went to court, he found that on the Sunday
evening it was customary to have an interlude, on the
same principle ; high and low, rich and poor, in England
as on the Continent, were, at that time, accustomed, after
the sacred duties of the day had comforted and refreshed
their souls, to devote some time to the innocent recreation
of the body. But when we say this, we must also remember
that our own ancestors and religious persons on the Con-
tinent, while they thus kept the Lords day, the day of our
Lord's blessed resurrection, as a happy festival, were accus-
tomed to observe the Friday, the day of our Lord's cruci-
fixion, as a strict fast. Later in life Baxter seems to have
looked back with greater horror at feeling tempted to join in
the innocent recreations of the people on the Lord's day, no
law existing at the time to prevent them, than he did at
the sins of which he had been guilty, of lying, disobedi-
ence, and theft. Such is the tendency of sectarianism to
corrupt the judgment.
His early education was imperfectly conducted. His
eulogist and biographer, Mr Orme, remarks : " of Hebrew
he scarcely knew anything ; his acquaintance with Greek
was not profound ; and even in Latin, as his works shew,
he must be regarded by a scholar as little less than a
barbarian. Of mathematics he knew nothing, and never
had a taste for them. Of logic and metaphysics he was a
devoted admirer, and to them he dedicated his labour and
delight." " The schoolmen were the objects of his admira-
tion ; Aquinas, Scotus, Durandus, Ockham, and their
disciples, were the teachers from whom he acquired no
small portion of that acuteness for which he became so
distinguished as a teacher, and of that logomachy, by
which most of his writings are more or less deformed."
It is said that he never experienced any " real change
of heart," until he read " Bunney's Resolution," a book
"written by a Jesuit of the name of Parsons," and pub-
lished, with corrections, by Bunney.
BAX. 69
His health from early life was extremely delicate, and
he was affected with nervous debility ; he is said to have
been one of the most diseased and afflicted men that ever
reached the full ordinary limits of human life. And this
is mentioned by his biographers as an excuse for " the
acerbity of his temper, his occasional fretfulness and way-
wardness, and his impatience of contradiction."
In 1638 he was made head-master of a free school at
Dudley, and was ordained by the bishop of Worcester.
He was now rather more than twenty-three years of age,
and considered himself competent to sit in judgment upon
the Church. It is interesting to know what the young
deacon's judgment was, and we find he did not consider
episcopacy to be sinful, and he decided that kneeling at
the holy sacrament was lawful: as to the propriety of
wearing the surplice he doubted ; on the whole he was
inclined to submit to it, but though he officiated in the
church of England, he never wore " that rag of popery"
in his life : the ring in marriage, though a popish custom,
" he did not scruple ;" but the cross in baptism he deemed
unlawful. A form of prayer and liturgy he thought might
be used, and, in some cases, might be lawfully imposed ;
but as to the liturgy of the church of England, "he
thought it had much confusion, and many defects in it."
Discipline he saw much to be wanted, but his youthful
judgment was, that the frame of episcopacy, (a divine
institution) did not absolutely exclude it; and thought
its omission arose chiefly from the personal neglect of
the bishops. Subscription he began to judge unlawful,
and thought that he had sinned by his former rashness ;
for although he did not yet disapprove of a liturgy and
bishops, yet to subscribe ex animo, that there is nothing
in the liturgy contrary to the word of God, was what he
could not do again. The baptismal and ordination
services, as well as the catechism, are indeed so very
catholic, that one is surprised how any one holding ultra-
protestant views, can ever accept them. The very " non-
natural" sense in which the ordination service is explained
70 BAX.
by bishop Sumner, and in which the baptismal offices are
understood by many, may be accepted by persons anxious
to remain in the establishment, but would not suffice for
the strong-minded, self-willed puritans, who sought for a
good reason to ouit it.
Baxter now began to study the works of the puri-
tans, having first read, without receiving satisfaction, the
writings of distinguished churchmen. Among others, he
consulted Hooker, but Hooker's argument had no effect
upon young Baxter. His biographer, Mr Orme, gives
his own opinion of Hooker, which was probably that of
Baxter. " Of the man whom popes have praised, and
kings commended, and bishops without number extolled,
it may be presumptuous in me," says Mr Orme, " to ex-
press a qualified opinion. But truth ought to be spoken.
The praise of profound erudition, laborious research, and
gigantic powers of eloquence, no man will deny to be due
to Hooker. But had his celebrated work been written in
defence of the popish hierarchy, and popish ceremonies,
the greater part of it would have required little alteration.
Hence we need not wonder at the praise bestowed on it
by Clement VIII., or that James II. should have referred
to it as one of two books which promoted his conversion to
the church of Rome. His views of the authority of the
Church, and the insufficiency of Scripture, are much more
popish than protestant ; and the greatest trial to which
the judiciousness of Hooker could have been subjected,
would have been to attempt a defence of the reformation
on his own principles. His work abounds with sophisms,
with assumptions, and with a show of proof when the true
state of the case has not been given, and the strength of
the argument never met. The quantity of learned and
ingenious reasoning which it contains, and the seeming
candour and mildness which it displays, have imposed
upon many, and procured for Hooker the name of
"judicious" to which the solidity of his reasonings, and
the services he has rendered to Christianity, by no means
entitle him."
BAX. 71
Whether Mr Orme or Mr Baxter was competent to sit
in judgment upon Hooker, may admit of a doubt : they
were evidently unable to distinguish between Catholic
truth and Romish corruptions. Baxter had not received
an academical education, and we have the testimony of
his biographer given above, to his qualifications to sit in
judgment on the profound labours of a learned divine.
But as Baxter had no Hebrew, little Latin, and less
Greek, with no mathematics, we must be more grieved
than surprised that Baxter decided that Hooker and the
Church were wrong, and the puritans right ; especially if
it be true, as he asserts, that the puritans led the better
life. He indeed blames them for their " sourness," but
puritan " sourness" so nearly resembles catholic asceticism
in appearance, that it is easy to account for the fact
that they had an influence over the half-educated mind of
an enthusiastic young man desirous of excellence.
The dissenters were now in the ascendant, and had
begun to persecute the clergy. " They had formed," says
Southey, " a committee for religion, which received, like
an inquisition, complaints from any person against
scandalous ministers. To bow at the name of Jesus,
or require communicants to receive the sacrament at
the altar, was cause enough for scandal now; and any thing
which opposed or offended the ruling faction, was compre-
hended under the general name of malignity, a charge as
fatal to the fortunes of those against whom it was brought,
as that of heresy would have been to their lives in a papist
country." To this committee the town of Kidderminstei
petitioned against their vicar as a scandalous minister,
and Baxter represents him to have been a drunkard. If
it was so, he deserved to be suspended, however incom-
petent the tribunal to which the appeal was made. But
it may be stated in his favour, that when he offered to his
parishioners sixty pounds a year as a salary for any
preacher a committee of fourteen should choose, and
promised to confine himself to " the inferior duties" of
prayer and the routine of pastoral work, the offer was ac-
72 BAX.
cepted ; this proves either that they did not substantiate
their charges against him, or that they, like hypocrites,
were willing to compound for crime. Baxter was the
man of their choice, and he accepted the invitation because
"the congregation was large and the church convenient."
But he was not without difficulties : at one time " the
ignorant rabble" raged against him for preaching, as they
supposed, that God hated all infants, because he taught
the doctrine of original sin : the very accusation which is
at the present day brought against those who, because of
original sin, preach the necessity of infant regeneration.
At another time they actually sought his life, and probably
would have taken it, had they found him at the moment
of their rage, because, by order of the parliament, the
churchwardens attempted to take down a crucifix which
the reformers had left standing in the church yard. So
strong was the excitement against Baxter, that he was not
long after obliged to withdraw from Kidderminster, on
account of an attack upon his life by a mob, excited by a
parliamentary order for defacing images of the Holy
Trinity in churches, and for removing crucifixes; of which
they considered Baxter a party, though the execution of
the order had not been attempted. This shews how
attached the people were to their religion, and the old
forms and ceremonies, until by designing and wicked
persons, aided by such well-meaning but half-informed men
as Baxter, their passions were inflamed, and they were
excited to rebellion. What the reformers tolerated, the
puritans destroyed ; and the dissenters of the present day
have inherited the spirit, not of the reformers, but of the
puritans.
When the rebellion commenced, Baxter acted character-
istically : he thought the parliamentarians not quite in
the right, and the king not quite in the wrong ; but while
persuaded that he only could perceive the truth, he
became a decided friend to the cause of the rebels, though
he did not desire the deposition of the king. Having left
Kidderminster, he resided for a time in the ancient city
BAX. 73
of Coventry, and there he took the covenant ; whereby he
was pledged, " without respect of persons, to endeavour
the extirpation of popery, prelacy, (that is, church govern-
ment by archbishops, bishops, their chancellors and com-
missaries, deans, deans and chapters, archdeacons, and
all other ecclesiastical officers depending on the hierarchy, )
superstition, heresy, schism, profaneness, and whatsoever
shall be found to be contrary to sound doctrine and the
power of godliness." " All persons," says Southey, " above
the age of eighteen, were required to take the covenant ;
and such ministers as refused were reported to parliament
as malignants, and proceeded against accordingly. No
fewer than seven thousand clergymen were on this ground
ejected from their livings, so faithful were the great body
of the clergy in the worst of times. The extent of private
misery and ruin which this occasioned, aggravated in no
slight degree the calamities of civil war." Among these
seven thousand confessors Baxter was not : by taking the
coveuant he escaped persecution, but committed himself
as a presbyterian and a rebel.
During the progress of the rebellion he discovered that
many of the rebels went further than he did, and desired
" to master and ruin the king ;" and that there were many
preachers in the rebel army who preached not according
to what he thought orthodoxy. He became therefore a
chaplain in the rebel army : and it is strange to hear him
speaking with contempt of sectaries, as if he had not become
one himself, and with indignation of heterodoxy, as if,
holding, as he did, the right of private judgment, he could
justly, or without a most unchristian violation of charity,
call any one heterodox, merely because the opinions which
he deduced from Scripture happened to differ from those
of Baxter. His position in the army was any thing but
pleasant ; he was an unwelcome guest, and seemed more
surprised than hurt that Cromwell did not admit him into
his councils. His biographer tells us that " nothing but
an extraordinary taste for disputation could have disposed
VOL. II. g
74 BAX.
him to enter on, or have enabled him to continue in, such
a service." But we cannot help thinking that he was
actuated by a yet higher motive : as he had selected the
presbyterian religion to be his own, he thought it the
true religion, and if the true religion, the only religion ;
and when he saw the progress of events in the rebellion
leading on to the establishment of independency, he be-
came alarmed, and in serving his sect, conscientiously
believed that he was serving God. He gives a lamentable
description of the immorality and infidelity even, which
prevailed in the puritan army, and speaks of the leading
ministers as " fierce with pride and self-conceitedness."
While Baxter lived in Coventry the Westminster assem-
bly had been convened by order of parliament; it was
convoked, says Southey " to frame a new model of church
government. A few of the loyal clergy were appointed,
most of whom, in obedience to the king's command, re-
fused to appear upon an illegal summons : a large propor-
tion of seditious preachers, who now openly professed
their presbyterian principles ; some honester men though
further gone in the disease of the age, who, having emi-
grated to Holland, rather than submit to the order of the
Church, returned now to take advantage of its overthrow,
and lastly certain members of both houses, and some com-
missioners from Scotland." It is somewhat remarkable
that Baxter was not a member of this notable assembly,
and when speaking of it, a feeling of disappointment
escapes from him in the expression that he was "not
worthy to be one of them himself." Although he
approved of the assembly in general, and thought it the
most admirable assembly that had existed since the
days of the apostles, except the Synod of Dort ; he criti-
cises it with his usual self-sufficiency : his words are,
" Yet, highly as I honour the men, I am not of their
mind in every part of the government which they would
have set up. Some words in their catechism, I wish had
been more clear : and, above all, I wish that the parlia-
BAX. 75
ment, and their more skilful hand, had done more than
was done to heal our breaches, aDd had hit upon the right
way, either to unite with the episcopalians and indepen-
dents, or, at least, had pitched on the terms that are fit for
universal concord, and left all to come in upon those terms
that would."
In 1647 Baxter was obliged to leave the rebel army by
a sudden illness, and he retired to sir Thomas Rous's,
where he remained some time in a bad state of health.
In the meantime the refractory parishioners of Kidder-
minster had renewed their articles against the vicar, and
the deposing committee had sequestered the place. The
vicarage was now offered to Baxter. Not being iuclined to
involve himself in the difficulties of an office which be-
longed of right to another, he insisted that the sequestra-
tion should remain in the hands of the townsmen, and
that they should make an allowance to him out of the
tithes and other proceeds of the living : he would not steal
the horse, but was willing to ride it when others had acted
the part of thief. The time of Baxter's residence at Kid-
derminster was the happiest and most useful period of
his life. His ideas with respect to the management of a
parish were excellent ; he gave his time and his thoughts
to his people ; he was diligent, generous, and humane ;
and, according to his own account, he was so wonderfully
successful that " on the Lord's day there was no disorder
to be seen in the streets ; but you might hear an hundred
families singing psalms and repeating sermons as you
passed through them. " In a word,** he says, "when I came
thither first, .there was about one family in a street which
worshipped God and called upon His Name, and when I
came away there were some streets where there was not
one poor family on the side that did not so." This boast
could not have been without foundation ; but Baxter was
an egotist, and had such an overweening opinion of him-
self, that what he says must be received with considerable
abatement.
It is certain, however, that his opinions now had under-
76 BAX.
gone a very considerable change in things relating to the
state. Like the other presbyterians, and like ultra-protes-
tants in general, he did not regard rebellion as in itself
sinful. He and the presbyterians were willing to take up
arms against the king in order to compel him to establish
the presbyterian religion, but when they found the rebels
had ulterior objects in view, and that toleration of all
sects and parties, and not the establishment of presbyteri-
anism was likely to be the end of their proceedings, the
presbyterian party became loyalists, and though they did
not, and indeed could not, prevent the murder of the king,
they censured that act of atrocity, and while submitting
to Cromwell, were prepared to assist in the restoration of
Charles II.
Although Baxter had taken the covenant at Coventry,
when he supposed the object of the rebellion was to estab-
lish presbyterianism, he now opposed both that and the
engagement : to the latter he was as a matter of course
opposed ; the imposition of the former he thought inexpe-
dient, as it might hamper men in coming to terms should
an opportunity of restoring the king occur. In all these
proceedings we must remark that Baxter was suffering
under severe disappointment, Cromwell and his officers
having treated him when with the army with as much con-
tempt as they dared. We find him again connected with
the army, but giving the soldiers and general now very
sound advice. In narrating the course he adopted to-
wards them he shews up the hypocrisy of the puritan
rebels, and certainly no*one knew them better than he did :
"When the soldiers were going against the- king and the
Scots, I wrote letters to some of them, to tell them of their
sin ; and desired them at last to begin to know them-
selves. They were the same men who had boasted so much
of love to all the godly, and pleaded for tender dealing
with them, and condemned those that persecuted them or
restrained their liberty, who were now ready to imbrue
their swords in the blood of such as they acknowledged to
be godly ; and all because they dared not be as perjured
BAX. 7i
or disloyal as they were. Some of them were startled at
these letters, and thought me an uncharitable censurer,
who would say that they could kill the godly, even when
they were on the march to do it : for how bad soever they
spake of the cavaliers (and not without too much desert as
to their morals), they confessed, that abundance of the
Scots were godly men. Afterwards, however, those that I
wrote to better understood me.
" At the same time, the Rump, or Commonwealth,
which so much abhorred persecution, and were for liberty
of conscience, made an order that all ministers should
keep certain days of humiliation, to fast and pray for their
success in Scotland : and that we should keep days of
thanksgiving for their victories ; and this upon pain of
sequestration ! So that we all expected to be turned out ;
but they did not execute it upon any, save one, in our
parts. For myself, instead of praying and preaching for
them, when any of the committee or soldiers were my
hearers, I laboured to help them to understand, what a
crime it was to force men to pray for the success of those
who were violating their covenant and loyalty, and going,
in such a cause, to "kill their brethren : — what it was to
force men to give God thanks for all their bloodshed, and
to make Gods ministers and ordinances vile, and service-
able to such crimes, by forcing men to run to God on such
errands of blood and ruin : — and what it is to be such
hypocrites as to persecute and cast out those that preach
the gospel, while they pretend the advancement of the
gospel, and the liberty of tender consciences, and leave
neither tenderness nor honesty in the world, when the
guides of the flocks and preachers of the gospel shall be
forced to swallow down such heinous sins."
At the restoration Baxter was regarded as one of the
leaders of the puritans, with whom the loyalists might
communicate ; but the inconsistency of his principles is
well expressed by his eulogist Mr Orme, who can scarcely
forgive him for his loyalty, such as it was : "he acted with
g 2
78 BAX.
the parliament, but maintained the rights of the king ;
he enjoyed the benefits of the protectorate, but spoke and
reasoned against the protector; he hailed the return of
Charles, but doubted whether he was freed from allegiance
to Richard." The benefits of the protectorate are to be
sought in confiscations to the amount of £83,331,489,
and in the entire loss of liberty on the part of the people.
But such as they were Baxter certainly had his share in
them, as he enjoyed at Kidderminster property which
belonged to another.
Such was Baxter's state of mind and circumstances on
the king's return. " The national feeling," says Southey,
" had already been manifested. At the moment that the
cannon announced the king's peaceful return to the palace
of his fathers, some of the sequestered bishops and other
clergy performed a service of thanksgiving in Henry the
Seventh's chapel, with feelings such as no other source of
joy could ever have excited In most parts of the country,
where the minister was well disposed, a repeal of the laws
against the liturgy was not waited for, so certain was it
held, by every sound old English heart, that the constitu-
tion of their fathers in church as well' as in state was now
to be restored. The presbyterians felt this : but when
they saw how impossible it was to obtain a real triumph,
they sought for such a compromise as might be made to
have the resemblance of one. Their hope now was, that
the Church would give up some of its ceremonies and
alter its liturgy to their liking. But in aiming at this,
their leaders proceeded with a bad faith, which, when it
was detected, abated both the hope and the wish of
conciliating them." Baxter's own account of the transac-
tions of this period fully bears out the accuracy of this
statement, which is further corroborated by the following
passage from lord Clarendon :
" Here," says Clarendon, " I cannot but instance two
acts of the presbyterians, by which, if their humour
and spirit were not enough discovered and known, their
BAX. 79
want of ingenuity and integrity would be manifest ; and
how impossible it is for men who would not be deceived,
to depend on either. When the declaration had been
delivered to the ministers, there was a clause in it, in
which the king declared ' his own constant practice of the
common prayer,' and that he would take it well from
those who used it in their churches, that the common
people might be again acquainted with the piety, gravity,
and devotion of it, and which he thought would facilitate
their living in good neighbourhood together, or words to
that effect When they had considered the whole some
days, Mr Calamy, and some other ministers deputed by
the rest, came to the chancellor to re-deliver it into his
hands. They acknowledged the king had been very
gracious to them in his concessions; though he had not
granted all that some of their brethren wished, yet they
were contented, only desiring him that he would prevail
with the king, that the clause mentioned before might be
left out, which, they protested, was moved by them for the
king's own end, and that they might show their obedience
to him, and resolution to do him service. For they were
resolved themselves to do what the king wished ; first to
reconcile the people, who for near twenty years had not
been acquainted with that form, by informing them that
it contained much piety and devotion, and might be law-
fully used ; and then that they would begin to use it
themselves, and by degrees accustom the people to it,
which they said would have a better effect than if the
clause were in the declaration. For they should be
thought in their persuasions to comply only with the
king's declaration, and to merit from his majesty, and not
to be moved from the conscience of their duty, and so
they should take that occasion to manifest their zeal to
please the king. And they feared there would be other
ill consequences from it by the waywardness of the com-
mon people, who were to be treated with skill, and would
not be prevailed upon all at once. The king was to be
present the next morning, to hear the declaration read the
80 BAX,
last time before both parties, and then the chancellor told
him, in the presence of all the rest, what the ministers
had desired, which they again enlarged upon, with the
same protestations of their resolutions, in such a manner
that his majesty believed they meant honestly, and the
clause was left out. But the declaration was no sooner
published, than, observing that the people were generally
satisfied with it, they sent their emissaries abroad, and
many of their letters were intercepted, and particularly a
letter from Mr Calamy, to a leading minister in Somerset-
shire, whereby he advised and intreated him that he and
his friends would continue and persist in the use of the
Directory, and by no means admit the common prayer in
their churches ; for thus he made no question but that
they should prevail further with the king than he had
yet consented to in his declaration !
" The other instance was, that as soon as the declara-
tion was printed, the king received a petition in the name
of the ministers of London, and many others of the same
opinion with them, who had subscribed that petition,
amongst whom none of those who had attended the king
in those conferences had their names. They gave his
majesty humble thanks for the grace he had vouchsafed
to show in his declaration, which they received as an
earnest of his future goodness and condescension, in
granting all those other concessions, which were abso-
lutely necessary for the liberty of their conscience, and
desired, with importunity and ill manners, that the wear-
ing the surplice, and the using the cross in baptism,
might be absolutely abolished out of the Church, as being
scandalous to all men of tender consciences ! From these
two instances, all men may conclude that nothing but a
severe execution of the law can prevail upon that class of
men to conform to government."
Conciliation was, however, still tried, and after the
vacant sees had been filled up, and the act repealed which
excluded the bishops from parliament, what is commonly
called the Savoy Conference was held on the 15th of April,
BAX. 81
1661, under a warrant issued by the king on the 25th of
March, The commission thus appointed consisted of an
equal number of divines of the church of England and of
presbyterians, the object being to ascertain from the latter
what concessions they required, and from the former whe-
ther the Church was capable of conceding any points to
presbyterian scruples without violation of principle. It is
well known that this conference failed in the object for
which it was intended, and ended in a reformation of our
liturgy and offices of a catholic, not of a presbyterian cha-
racter. Our divines at once perceived that their end was to
be the establishment of God's truth, not the conciliation
of a few persons who, however excellent, were not to be
heard when pleading against the catholic Church. By the
firmness of our divines at that period, the church was
placed in that position in which it now remains.
Baxter took a leading part in the Savoy Conference,
and was distinguished rather by the violence of his con-
duct than by extreme principles : the bitterness of his
spirit as regards this conference is painfully apparent in
the account he gives of it in his life. His self-confidence
was remarkably conspicuous in the fact, that, not content
with objecting to the catholic liturgy of the Church as
reformed in the reigns of Edward, Elizabeth, and James,
he set himself the task of writing an entirely new liturgy,
which he completed in a fortnight. He ventured to do
what the reformers had not attempted, and set up his own
intellect as equal to the wisdom of the whole Church.
Isaac Walton, in his life of bishop Sanderson, makes the
following remarks upon the celebrated conference here
alluded to :
" The points debated were, I think, many; (and I think
many of them needless) some affirmed to be truth and
reason, some denied to be either ; and these debates being
at first in words, proved to be so loose and perplexed, as
satisfied neither party. For some time that which had
been affirmed was immediately forgot, or mistaken, or
denied, and so no satisfaction given to either party. And
82 BAX.
that the debate might become more satisfactory and useful,
it was therefore resolved that the day following the desires
and reasons of the non-conformists should be given in
writing, and they in writing receive answers from the
conforming party. And though I neither now can, nor
need to mention all the points debated, nor the names of
the dissenting brethren ; yet I am sure Mr Richard Bax-
ter was one, and I am sure also one of the points debated
was ' Concerning a command of lawful superiors, what
was sufficient towards its being a lawful command?' —
This following proposition was brought by the conforming
party :
• That command which commands an act in itself law-
ful, and no other act or circumstance unlawful, is not
sinful.'
"Mr Baxter denied it for two reasons, which he gave in
with his own hand in writing thus : one was, ' Because
that may be a sin per accidens, which is not so in itself ;
and may be unlawfully commanded, though that accident
be not in the command.' Another was, ' That it may be
commanded under an unjust penalty.'
"Again, this proposition being brought by the conform-
ists, ' That command which commandeth an act in itself
lawful, and no other act whereby any unjust penalty is
enjoined, nor any circumstance whence per accidens any
sin is consequent which the commander ought to provide
against, is not sinful.'
"Mr Baxter denied it for this reason then given in with
his own hand in writing, thus ; ' Because the first act
commanded may be per accidens unlawful, and be com-
manded by an unjust penalty, though no other act or
circumstance commanded be such.'
"Again, this proposition being brought by the conform-
ists, ' That command which commandeth an act in itself
lawful, and no other act whereby any unjust penalty is en-
joined, nor any circumstance whence directly or per accidens
any sin is consequent, which the commander ought to pro-
vide against, hath in it all things requisite to the lawful-
BAX. 83
ness of a command, and particularly cannot be guilty of
commanding an act per accidens unlawful, nor of command-
ing an act under an unjust penalty.'
" Mr Baxter denied it upon the same reasons.
Peter Gunning.
John Pearson.
"These were then two of the disputants, still live, and
will attest this ; one being now lord bishop of Ely, and
the other of Chester. And the last of them told me very
lately, that one of the dissenters (which I could, but for-
bear to name) appeared to Dr Sanderson to be so bold, so
troublesome, and so illogical in the dispute, as forced
patient Dr Sanderson (who was then bishop of Lincoln,
and a moderator with other bishops) to say with an un-
usual earnestness, ■ That he had never met with a man
of more pertinacious confidence, and less abilities in all
his conversation.' "
In the meantime Baxter had been kindly treated : he
had been one of the chaplains appointed by the king on
his restoration, and had been offered a bishopric. But there
was so much generosity in Baxter's disposition, and such
honest devotion to the cause which, however mistaken, he
considered to be the cause of truth, that he was not to be
bribed; and the offer of a bishopric was disgraceful in
those who made it, while its rejection was honourable to
Baxter. When his vanity was offended he could become
a bitter enemy ; but as to station he desired only that, in
which he knew that he could be useful, and the object of
his ambition was a restoration to Kidderminster, if the
vicar of that parish could be induced to leave it by the
offer of other preferment. This could never be effected,
though Baxter endeavoured to create in the parish a fac-
tion in his own favour, which caused the vicar some trouble.
Being thus disappointed he preached occasionally in the
city of London, having a license from Sheldon, bishop of
London, upon his subscribing a promise not to preach any
thing contrary to the doctrine or the discipline of the
Church. He preached his farewell sermon at Blackfriars
84 BAX.
in May, 1662, and then retired to Acton, in Middlesex,
which was his chief place of residence as long as the act
against conventicles was in force.
All hopes of obtaining a station, for we can hardly say
that he desired preferment, in the church of England
were, of course, renounced by Baxter when the act of
Uniformity passed in 1662. This act required the clergy
of the church of England to conform to the liturgy of the
church of England, and enacted that preachers unor-
dained should receive ordination. " The measure," says
Mr Sou they, " was complained of, as an act of enormous
cruelty and persecution ; and the circumstance of its
being fixed for St Bartholomews day gave the com-
plainants occasion to compare it with the atrocious deed
committed upon that day against the Huguenots of
France. They were careful not to remember that the
same day, and for the same reason, (because tithes were
commonly due at Michaelmas) had been appointed for the
former ejection, by the rebels and dissenters, when four
times as many of the loyal clergy were deprived for fidelity
to their sovereign. No small proportion of the present
sufferers had obtained preferment by means of that tyran-
nical deprivation : they did but drink now of the cup which
they had administered to others." Owing to the act of
uniformity it is said by presbyterians that two thousand
ministers were deprived ; but, says sir Roger L 'Estrange,
" as to your account of two thousand silenced ministers,
a matter of eight or nine hundred difference shall break
no squares between you and me."
Common sense must admit that if the Church was to be
restored in England, none could be admitted to minister
at her altars but those whom the catholic Church considers
to be canonically ordained, and who would conform to her
doctrine and discipline. In these days the very persons
who are wont to censure the conduct of the restora
tion government for thus ejecting men who, at heart,
were presbyterians, are vehement advocates of the prin-
ciple on which they acted, and endeavour by its appli
BAX. 85
cation to drive from the Church all who are supposed
to entertain feelings friendly to Romanism. The conduct
of all parties in the Church at the present time thus vin-
dicates the much censured conduct of the good and wise
men who restored and reformed the church of England
after the restoration. But if such is the case, the change
in public opinion which has subsequently taken place,
will induce another class of persons to regret that a tolera-
tion was not fully established. It was proper that those
only should be permitted to minister in the church of
England who conformed to her formularies, but we must
regret that the presbyterians and others were not permitted
that full toleration which they now enjoy. The truth,
however, is that the government desired a toleration, and
that they were opposed, and strongly opposed by the pres-
byterians and puritans. They wished to be tolerated,
and even demanded to be patronized themselves, but
with the intolerance and the self-deception for which that
party have always been distinguished, they would rather
suffer themselves, than share with others a benefit they
desired. The feeling of the puritans may be perceived
from the following statements of Baxter : on one occasion,
when the puritans were pleading their cause with the
chancellor, lord Clarendon, he " drew out another paper,
and told us that the king had been petitioned also by the
independents and anabaptists ; and though he knew not
what to think of it himself, and did not very well like it,
yet something he had drawn up which he would read to
us, and desire us also to give our advice about it. There-
upon he read, as an addition to the declaration, ' that
others also be permitted to meet for religious worship, so
be it, they do it not to the disturbance of the peace ; and
that no justice of peace or officer disturb them.' When
he had read it, he again desired them all to think on it,
and give their advice ; but all were silent. The presbyte-
rians all perceived, as soon as they heard it, that it would
secure the liberty of the papists ; and Dr Wallis whis-
VOL. II. h
86 BAX.
pered me in the ear, and entreated me to say nothing, for
it was an odious business, but to let the bishops speak to
it. But the bishops would not speak a word, nor any one
of the presbyterians, and so we were like to have ended in
silence. I knew, if we consented to it, it would be
charged on us, that we spake for a toleration of papists
and sectaries : yet it might have lengthened out our own.
And if we spake against it, all sects and parties would be
set against us as the causers of their sufferings, and as a
partial people that would have liberty ourselves, but would
have no others enjoy it with us. At last, seeing the
silence continue, I thought our very silence would be
charged on us as consent, if it went on, and therefore I
only said this : ' That this reverend brother, Dr Gunning,
even now speaking against the sects, had named the
papists and the socinians : for our parts, we desired not
favour to ourselves alone, and rigorous severity we desired
against none. As we humbly thanked his majesty for his
indulgence to ourselves, so we distinguished the tolerable
parties from the intolerable. For the former, we humbly
craved just lenity and favour, but for the latter, such as the
two sorts named before by that reverend brother, for our
parts, we could not make their toleration our request.'
To which his majesty said, there were laws enough against
the papists ; to which I replied, that we understood the
question to be, whether those laws should be executed on
them or not. And so his majesty broke up the meeting
of that day."
On another occasion it seems that a toleration had been
almost obtained, the circumstances of its failure are thus
given by Baxter :
" Having got past Bartholomew's day, I proceed in the
history of the consequent calamities. When I was absent,
resolving to meddle in such businesses no more, Mr Calamy
and the other ministers of London who had acquaintances
at court, were put in hope the king would grant that by
way of indulgence, which was formerly denied them ; and
BAX. M
that before the act was passed, it might be provided that
the king should have power to dispense with such as
deserved well of him in his restoration, or whom he
pleased : but all was frustrated. After this, they were
told that the king had power himself to dispense in such
cases, as he did with the Dutch and French churches, and
some kind of petition they drew up to offer the king ; but
when they had done it, they were so far from procuring
their desires, that there fled abroad grievous threatenings
against them, that they should incur a premunire for such
a bold attempt. When they were drawn to it at first,
they did it with much hesitancy, and they worded it so
cautiously, that it extended not to the papists. Some of
the independents presumed to say, that the reason why
all our addresses for liberty had not succeeded, was be-
cause we did not extend it to the papists ; that for their
parts, they saw no reason why the papists should not have
liberty of worship as well as others ; and that it was better
for them to have it, than for all of us to go without it.
But the presbyterians still answered, that the king might
himself do what he pleased ; and if his wisdom thought
meet to give liberty to the papists, let the papists petition
for it as we did for ours ; but if it were expected that we
should be forced to become petitioners for liberty to
popery, we should never do it whatever be the issue ; nor
should it be said to be our work.
" On the '26th. December, 1662, the king sent forth a
declaration, expressing his purpose to grant some indul-
gence or liberty in religion, with other matters, not
excluding the papists, many of whom had deserved so
well of him. When this came out, the ejected ministers
began to think more confidently of some indulgence to
themselves. Mr Nye, also, and some other of the inde-
pendents, were encouraged to go to the king, and, when
they came back, told us, that he was now resolved to give
them liberty. On the second of January, Mr Nye came
to me, to treat about our owning the king's declaration, by
returning him thanks for it ; when I perceived that it was
88 BAX.
designed that we must be the desirers or procurers of it ;
but I told him my resolution to meddle no more in such
matters, having incurred already so much hatred and
displeasure by endeavouring unity. The rest of the
ministers also had enough of it, and resolved that they
would not meddle; so that Mr Nye and his brethren
thought it partly owing to us that they missed their
intended liberty. But all were averse to have any thing
to do with the indulgence or toleration of the papists,
thinking it at least unfit for them."
There is something particularly naive in the one-sided
view of liberality taken by Baxter in the following passage,
which relates to a plan of toleration suggested by the
government in 1668. "But after all this," says Baxter,
" we were as before. The talk of liberty did but occasion
the writing many bitter pamphlets against toleration.
Among others, they gathered out of mine and other men's
books all that we had there said against liberty for popery,
and for quakers railing against the ministers in open
congregations, which they applied as against a toleration
of ourselves ; for the bare name of toleration did seem in
the people's ears to serve their turn by signifying the same
thing. Because we had said that men should not be
tolerated to preach against Jesus Christ and the scriptures,
they would thence justify themselves for not tolerating us
to preach for Jesus Christ, unless we would be deliberate
liars, and use all their inventions. Those same men,
who, when commissioned with us to make such alterations
in the liturgy as were necessary to satisfy tender con-
sciences, did maintain that no alteration was necessary to
satisfy them, and did moreover, contrary to all our impor-
tunity, make so many new burdens of their own to be
anew imposed on us, had now little to say but that they
must be obeyed, because they were imposed." Baxter
and his friends, being right, ought to be tolerated, all
other parties, being wrong, ought not to be tolerated ; but
why Baxter and his friends were more likely to be right
than independents and papists does not appear.
BAX. 89
In 1672 was issued the king's declaration dispensing
with the penal laws against nonconformists. " When it
came out," says Baxter, "the London nonconformable
ministers were invited to return his majesty their thanks.
At their meeting, Dr Seaman and Mr Jenkins, who had
been till then most distant from the court, were for a
thanksgiving, in such high applauding terms as L»r
Manton, and almost all the rest, dissented from. Some
were for avoiding terms of approbation, lest the parliament
should fall upon them ; and some, because they would
far rather have had any tolerable state of unity with the
public ministry than a toleration; supposing, that the
toleration was not chiefly for their sakes, but for the
papists, and that they should hold it no longer than
that interest required it, which is inconsistent with the
interest of the protestant religion, and the church of Eng-
land : and that they had no security for it, but it might
be taken from them at any time." At this time a] so, the
government ordered fifty pounds a year to be paid to most
of the nonconformist ministers in London, and a hundred
to the chief of them. Baxter, with his usual independence,
sent back his pension, which is represented by Burnet in
the light of hush money.
Since these were the principles by which Baxter was
influenced, we feel less inclined to sympathize with him
in the occasional hardships to which he was exj^osed dur-
ing the reigns of Charles and his brother. He was deter-
mined to preach, and when he preached he was maliciously
watched and malignantly misrepresented, not by the
authorities of the Church, but by the partizans of govern-
ment. To the authorities of church and state he was
often accused, though always unjustly, of sedition. He was
often incautious, and as he was suspected, the misrepre-
sentations of his conduct were easily believed. When he
was in prison, he was merely subjected to restraint, until
the circumstances of his case were enquired into. ( >n
casion, when he was committed bv the magistrate
h a
90 BAX.
under suspicion of being engaged in a seditious movement
with which he was evidently in no way concerned, he
says : " My imprisonment was at present no great suffer-
ing to me, for I had an honest jailor, who showed me all
the kindness he could. I had a large room, and the
liberty of walking in a fair garden. My wife was never
so cheerful a companion to me as in prison, and was very
much against my seeking to be released. She had brought
so many necessaries, that we kept house as contentedly
and comfortably as at home, though in a narrower room,
and had the sight of more of my friends in a day, than I
had at home in half a year. I knew also that if I got out
against their will, my sufferings would be never the
nearer to an end. But yet, on the other side, it was in
the extreme heat of summer, when London was wont to
have epidemical diseases. The hope of my dying in
prison, I have reason to think was one great inducement
to some of the instruments to move to what they did. My
chamber being over the gate, which was knocked and
opened with noise of prisoners just under me, almost
every night, I had little hope of sleeping but by day,
which would have been likely to have quickly broken my
strength, which was so little that I did but live. The
number of visitors daily, put me out of hope of studying,
or of doing any thing but entertain them. I had neither
leave at any time to go out of doors, much less to church
on the Lord's days, nor on that day to have any come to
to me, or to preach to any but my family." His friends
were justly indignant at the treatment he received, and
he says, "the moderate, honest part of the episcopal
clergy were much offended, and I was chosen out design-
edly to make them all odious to the people." The
circumstance took place when at the profligate court of
Charles the church of England was out of favour, and to
spite the Church the government was inclined to treat
with the nonconformists.
In 1662 Baxter had married Margaret, daughter of
BAX. 91
Francis Charleton, Esq., of Shropshire ; and his marriage
created some laughter and surprise, not only because at
forty- seven years of age he allied himself to a young lady
of twenty-two, but because he had been accustomed to talk
rather incautiously in favour of the celibacy (not com-
pulsory) of the clergy. When stating the causes of his
success at Kidderminster, he says, " I found also that my
single life afforded me much advantage ; for I could
easier take my people for my children, and think all that
I had too little for them, in that I had no children of my
own to tempt me to another way of using it. Being
discharged from family cares, and keeping but one servant,
I had the greater vacancy and liberty for the labours of
my calling." Some time before his marriage took place,
he remarks, in his usual egotistic strain, which renders
every thing of public importance in his own estimation
which relates to himself, " it was rung about every where
partly as a wonder, and partly as a crime ; and that the
king's marriage was scarcely more talked about." For
this, remarks Mr Orme, " he had no doubt furnished
some occasion, by the manner in which he had expressed
himself respecting ministers marrying, which he con-
sidered barely lawful."
Besides the controversies to which allusion has already
been made, Baxter had a long discussion, in person and by
writing, with Dr Owen, about the terms of agreement with
Christians of all parties. It was not productive of any
practical effect at the time, and Baxter, of course, lays the
blame of its failure upon Owen. Baxter's biographer re-
marks that in this controversy Baxter was sharp and
cutting in his reproofs, and disposed to push matters too
far. He tells us that Owen frequently made friends of
enemies* while Baxter often made enemies of friends.
After the indulgence in 1672 Baxter returned to Lon-
don, and preached on week-days at Pinner's Hall, at a
meeting in Fetter-lane, and in St James's market house ;
about two years afterwards, he built a meeting-house in
92 BAX.
Oxenden-street. Both there, and in a meeting-house in
Swallow ^ tree t, he was subjected to much annoyance.
In 1682 Charles II being exasperated at the resistance
offered by the presbyterians to any toleration which should
include the papists, resolved to humble the former : and
in common with several others, Baxter was seized for
coming within five miles of a corporate town, contrary to
an act of parliament ; and in 1684 he was seized again.
In the reign of James II he was committed a prisoner to
the King's Bench, and tried before the infamous Jeffries
for his paraphrase on the New Testament, which, because
it contained certain allusions to passing events, and many
unjustifiable and unfair insinuations against prelates and
prelatists, was stigmatized as a scandalous and seditious
hook against the government. The conduct of Jeffries
throughout this affair was atrocious. Baxter was com-
mitted to prison from which after two years he was dis-
charged, the fine which had been imposed upon him being
remitted by the king. When he was in prison he was
visited by his friends, and by many even of the clergy of the
church of England who sympathized with his sufferings,
and deplored the injustice he had received. During his im-
prisonment he enjoyed more quietness, as he admits, than
he had done for many years before. So that in fact the
hardship he suffered was not great, though the conduct
of those who prosecuted and condemned him cannot be
sufficiency reprobated. We have an account of him in
prison from the well known Matthew Henry, in a letter
addressed to his father in 1685.
" I went into Southwark, to ]\Jr Baxter. I was to wait
upon him once before, and then he was busy. I found
him in pretty comfortable circumstances, though a pri-
soner, in a private house near the prison, attended on by
his own man and maid. My good friend, Mr [Samuel]
; Lawrence,] went with me. He is in as good health as
one can expect; and. methinks, looks better, and speaks
heartier, than when I saw him last. The token you sent,
BAX. 93
he would by no means be persuaded to accept, and was
almost angry when I pressed it, from one outed as well as
bimself. He said be did not use to receive ; and I un-
derstand since, bis need is not great.
" We sat witb bim about an bour. I was very glad to
find tbat be so mucb approved of my present circumstances.
He said be knew not wby young men migbt not improve
as well, as by travelling abroad. He inquired for bis
Shropshire friends, and observed, that of those gentlemen
who were with him at Wem, be bears of none whose sons
tread in their father's steps but Colonel Hunt's. He in-
quired about Mr Macworth's, and Mr Lloyd's (of Aston)
children. He gave us some good counsel to prepare for
trials ; and said the best preparation for them was, a life
of faith, and a constant course of self-denial. He thought
it harder constantly to deny temptations to sensual lusts
and pleasures, than to resist one single temptation to deny
Christ for fear of suffering ; the former requiring such
constant watchfulness : however, after the former, the
latter will be the easier. He said, we who are young are
apt to count upon great things, but we must not look for
them; and much more to this purpose. He said he
thought dying by sickness usually much more painful and
dreadful, than dying a violent death ; especially consider-
ing the extraordinary supports which those have who suffer
for righteousness' sake."
The notes and passages referred to in the paraphrase
are here given, and while the reader will conclude that
Baxter received hard measure, we cannot but remark on
the irreverent and unchastened tone of mind with which
be ventured to approach the most sacred subjects, and on
the absence of tbat Christian temper of forgiveness, which
we should have expected in a Christian advanced in
years.
Matt. v. 19. " If any shall presume to break the least
of these commands, because it is a little one, and teach
men so to do, he shall be vilified as he vilified God's law,
and not thought fit for a place in the kingdom of the
94 BAX.
Messiah ; but he shall be there greatest that is most exact
in doing and teaching all the law of God."
Note. — "Are not those preachers and prelates, then, the
least and basest, that preach and tread down Christian
love of all that dissent from any of their presumptions,
and so preach down, not the least, but the great com-
mand."
Mark iii. 6. "It is folly to doubt whether there be
devils, while devils incarnate dwell among us. What else
but devils, sure, could ceremonious hypocrites consult with
politic royalists to destroy the Son of God, for saving
men's health and lives by miracle ? Query : Whether
this withered hand had been their own, they would have
plotted to kill him that would have cured them by mira-
cle, as a sabbath-breaker ? And whether their successors
would silence and imprison godly ministers, if they could
cure them of all their sicknesses, help them to preferment,
and give them money to feed their lusts."
Mark ix. 39. Note. — " Men that preach in Christ's
name, therefore, are not to be silenced, though faulty : if
they do more good than harm, dreadful, then, is the case
of them that silence Christ's faithful ministers."
Mark xi. 31. Note. — " It was well that they considered
what might be said against them, which now most Chris-
tians do not in their disputes. These persecutors, and
the Romans, had some charity and consideration, in that
they were restrained by the fear of ' the people, and did
not accuse and fine them, as for routs, riots, and sedi-
tions.'"
Mark xii. 38-40. Note. — " Let not these proud hypocrites
deceive you, who, by their long liturgies and ceremonies,
and claim of superiority, do but cloak their worldliness,
pride, and oppression, and are religious to their greater
damnation."
Luke x. 2. Note. — "Priests now are many, but labourers
are few. What men are they that hate and silence the
faithfullest labourers, suspecting that they are not for
their interest ?"
BAX. 95
John xi. 57. Note. — " 1. Christ's ministers are God's
ordinances to save men, and the devil's clergy use them
for snares, mischief, and murder. 2. They will not let
the people be neuters between God and the devil, but
force them to be informing persecutors."
Acts xv. 2. Note. — "1. To be dissenters and disputants
against errors and tyrannical impositions upon conscience
is no fault, but a great duty. 2. It is but a groundless
fiction of some that tell us that this was an appeal to
Jerusalem, because it was the metropolis of Syria and An-
tioch, as if the metropolitan church power had been then
settled; when, long after, when it was devised, indeed,
Antioch was above Jerusalem ; and it is as vain a fiction
that this was an appeal to a general council, as if the
apostles and elders at Jerusalem had been a general coun-
cil, when none of the bishops of the Gentile churches
were there, or called thither. It is notorious that it was
an appeal to the apostles, taking in the elders, as those
that had the most certain notice of Christ's mind, having
conversed with him, and being intrusted to teach all
nations whatever he commanded them, and had the
greatest measure of the Spirit ; and also, being Jews
themselves, were such as the Judaising Christians had no
reason to suspect or reject:" — Baxter's Xew Testament in
locis."
The biographer and eulogist of Baxter, Mr Orme,
remarks, that " some of the phraseology is pointed and
severe, characteristic of Baxter's style, but all justly called
for by the treatment which he and others had experi-
enced." The writer of this sentence forgot at the moment
that Baxter professed to be the follower of Him who,
" when He was reviled, reviled not again, when He suffered
He threatened not."
But Baxter was more liberal than the other puritans
with whom he was associated : though his mind was so
constituted that he could accord entirely with no one, he
says :
" If I were among the Greeks, the Lutherans, the In-
96 BAX.
dependents, yea, the anabaptists, owning no heresy, nor
setting themselves against charity and peace, I would
sometimes hold occasional communion with them as
Christians, if they would give me leave, without forcing
me to any sinful subscription or action ; though my most
usual communion should be with that society which I
thought most agreeable to the word of God if I were free
to choose. I cannot be of their opinion, that think God
will not accept him that prayeth by the Common Prayer
Book ; and that such forms are a self-invented worship,
which God rejecteth ; nor yet can I be of their mind that
say the like of extempore prayers."
After he was released from prison he continued to live
some time within the rules of the King's Bench ; till, on
the 28th of February, 1687, he removed to his house in
Charterhouse yard ; and, as far as health would permit,
assisted Mr Sylvester in his public labours. He was too
old to take much part in the revolutionary movements of
1688, and what his opinions were with reference to the
revolution itself is unknown. The dissenting ministers
of London waited upon the Stadtholder on his arrival
with a Dutch army in London, and assured him of their
hearty concurrence in his enterprise ; but Baxter does not
appear to have been of their number. When the tolera-
tion act passed, dissenters were placed under the full
protection of the law, on taking the oaths to government,
and subscribing thirty-five and a half, of the thirty-nine
articles. This was the last public measure in regard to
which Baxter took an active part. He drew up a paper
containing his sense of the articles he was called upon to
subscribe. It is curious to see the same presumption
of mind operating to the last. As the youth of tv> enty-
three sat in judgment upon his mother, the church of
England; so the nonconforming Septuagenarian sat in
judgment on the Catholic Church; for, among other
things, he objected, except with an explanation, to one
important article in the Nicene creed, namely, to the
clause which describes our Lord as " God of God, very
BAX. 97
God of very God ;" whereby he proved himself as ignorant
as he certainly was presumptuous : nor could he assent to
the damnatory clauses of the Athanasian creed, by which
every clergyman of the church of England, having signed
the thirty-nine articles in their plain literal meaning,
assents to an awful anathema upon all who do not hold
the doctrine of the Trinity in the Catholic sense. It seems
certain that he and others were permitted to subscribe in
what has since been called a " non-natural" sense.
The labours and the life of Baxter were now drawing
to a close, and on looking back upon his past life, he
remarks :
" In my younger years, my trouble for sin was most
about my actual failings ; but now I am much more trou-
bled for inward defects and omissions, for want of the vital
duties or graces of the soul. My daily trouble is so much
for my ignorance of God, weakness of belief, want of
greater love to God, strangeness to Him and to the life to
come, and for want of a greater willingness to die, and
more longing to be with God in heaven, that I take not
some immoralities, though very great, to be in themselves
so great and odious sins, if they could be found separate
from these. Had I all the riches of the world, how gladly
should I give them for a fuller knowledge, belief, and
love, of God and everlasting glory ! These wants are the
greatest burden of my life, which oft maketh my life itself
a burden. I cannot find any hope of reaching so high in
these enjoyments, while I am in the flesh, as I once hoped
before this time to have attained ; which maketh me the
wearier of this sinful world, that is honoured with so little
of the knowledge of God."
" Heretofore, I placed much of my religion in tender-
ness of heart, grieving for sin, and penitential tears ; and
less of it in the love of God, in studying His goodness, and
engaging in His joyful praises, than now I do. Then I
was little sensible of the greatness and excellency of love
and praise, though I coldly spake the same words as now
VOL. II. i
P8 BAX,
I do. I am less troubled for want of grief and tears
(though I value humility, and refuse not needful humilia-
tion^, but my conscience now looketh at love and delight
in God, and praising Him as the top of all my religious
duties ; for which it is that I value and use the rest."
He justly observes in another place : — " It can be no
small sin formally, which is committed against knowledge
and conscience and deliberation, whatever excuse it have.
To have sinned while I preached and wrote against sin,
and had such abundant and great obligations from God,
and made so many promises against it, doth lay me very
low : not so much in fear of hell, as in great displeasure
against myself, and such self- abhorrence as would cause
revenge upon myself, were it not forbidden. When God
forgiveth me, I cannot forgive myself; especially for my
rash words or deeds, by which I have seemed injurious
and less tender and kind than I should have been to my
near and dear relations, whose love abundantly obliged
me. When such are dead, though we never differed in
point of interest, or any other matter, every sour, or cross
provoking word which I gave them, maketh me almost
irreconcilable to myself, and tells me how repentance
brought some of old to pray to the dead whom they had
wronged, to forgive them, in the hurry of their passion.
"That which I named before, by-the-by, is grown one of
my great diseases ; I have lost much of that zeal which I
had to propagate any truths to others, save the mere fun-
damentals. When I perceive people or ministers to think
they know what indeed they do not, which is too common,
and to dispute those things which they never thoroughly
studied, or expect that I should debate the case with them,
as if an hour's talk would serve instead of an acute under-
standing and seven years' study, I have no zeal to make
them of my opinion, but an impatience of continuing dis-
course with them on such subjects, and am apt to be silent
or to turn to something else ; which, though there be some
reason for it, I feel cometh from a want of zeal for tl e
truth, and from an impatient temper of mind. I am
BAX. 99
ready to thiDk that people should quickly understand all
in a few words ; and if they cannot, to despair of them,
and leave them to themselves. I know the more that this
is sinful in me, because it is partly so in other things,
even about the faults of my servants or other inferiors : if
three or four times warning do no good to them, I am
much tempted to despair of them, turn them away, and
leave them to themselves.
" I mention all these distempers that my faults may be
a warning to others to take heed, as they call on myself
for repentance and watchfulness. 0 Lord ! for the merits,
and sacrifice, and intercession of Christ, be merciful to
me, a sinner, and forgive my known and unknown sins !"
The latter years of his life were full of bodily suffering
and sorrow ; he was less occupied as a preacher, but was
still indefatigable as a writer. He died on the 8th of
December, 1691.
He is said to have written above 120 books, and to have
had above 60 written against him ; but the chief of his
works are. — 1. A Narrative of his own Life and Times.
2. The Saints* Everlasting Eest. 3. A Paraphr^
the New Testament. 4. A Call to the Unconverted.
5. Dying Thoughts. 6. Poor Man's Family Book.
In some of these works, intermixed of course with much
that is erroneous, there are some beautiful thoughts, and
the fervour with which he threw his whole soul into what
he wrote, has secured for them attention even in the
present day. — Baxter's Life and Tknt
and the contemporary Historians.
Bates. Joshua, was born at Sheffield, in 1671, and was
one of the first persons set apart as preachers by the pres-
byterian dissenters, in 1694. His meeting-house was in
Leather Lane, Holborn, and he was concerned in what is
called the Merchant's Lecture, at Salter's hall. He assist-
ed in completing the exposition of the Bible which had
been left unfinished by Matthew Henry He died in J 740
— Gen. Diet.
100 BAY.
Bayley, Anselm, was educated at Christ church, Ox-
ford, where he took the degree of doctor of laws in 1764.
He became minor canon of St Paul's and of Westminster
abbey, and also sub-dean of the Chapel Royal. He died in
1794. His works are — I. The Antiquity, Evidence, and
Certainty of Christianity canvassed, 8vo. 2. A Practical
Treatise on Singing and Playing, 8vo. 3. A plain and
complete Grammar of the English language, 8vo. 4. A
Grammar of the Hebrew language, 8vo. 5. The Old
Testament, English and Hebrew, with remarks, 4 vols.
8vo. 6. The Commandments of God, in the Jewish and
Christian churches ; two sermons, 8vo. 7. The Alliance
between Music and Poetry, 8vo — Gent. Mag.
Bayly, Lewis, was born at Caermarthen, and educated
at Oxford, where he became reader of the sentences in
Exeter-college in 1611. About the same time he was
vicar of Evesham, in Worcestershire, chaplain to Prince
Henry, and rector of St Matthew, Friday-street, London.
In 1613, he accumulated his degrees in divinity, and in
1616 was consecrated bishop of Bangor. In 1621, he was
committed to the Fleet, but upon what account is not
stated. He died in 1632, and was interred in the cathe-
dral of Bangor. This bishop wrote a book, which was
once extremely popular, and went through sixty editions
in English, besides several in Welch. The title is " The
Practice of Piety," 8vo. and 12mo. — Biog. Brit.
Bayly, Thomas, the youngest son of the bishop, was
educated at Cambridge, and in 1638 obtained the sub-
deanery of Wells. Being at Oxford in 1644, he was
created doctor in divinity, and two years afterwards he
resided as chaplain to the marquis of Worcester, at Rag-
land-castle ; on the surrender of which place, he was em-
ployed to draw up the articles of capitulation. After this,
he travelled abroad, but returned in 1649, and published
a book entitled, " Certamen Religiosum, or a conference
between king Charles I. and Henry, late marquis of Wor-
cester, concerning religion, in Ragland-castle, anno 1646."
BEATON. 101
This work is said to have been written for no other
purpose, than to justify the doctor's conduct in quitting
the church of England for that of Rome. But the
truth of this is questionable, for the relation has all the
evidence of being a real conference ; and the arguments
stated to have been advanced by the king, are far stronger
than those on the other side. The same year Dr Bayly
published " The Royal Charter granted unto Kings ;" for
which he was sent to Newgate ; and while there, wrote a
a book, entitled " Herba parietis, or the Wall-Flower, as
it grows out of the stone chamber belonging to the metro-
politan prison," folio, 1G50. Soon after this he effected
his escape, and went to Douay, where he published a book
called "Dr Bayly's Challenge, in justification of his con-
version." He next travelled into Italy, and died very
poor, in 1659. Besides the above works, he published —
1. Worcester's Apophthegms, or Witty Sayings, of the
Right Honourable Henry, late Marquess and Earl of Wor-
cester, 12mo. 1650. 2. The Life of Bishop Fisher, 12mo.
This last, however, is said to have been written by Dr
Richard Flail, canon of the church of St Omer's, who died
in 1604, and the manuscript falling into the hands of
Dr Bayly, he published it as his own. — Biog. Brit. D odd's
Church Hist.
Beaton, James. This prelate is rather to be regarded
as a statesman than a divine, and the notice of him will
accordingly be brief. He was descended from the family
of Beatons of Balfour, in Fifeshire, and was appointed
provost of the collegiate church of Bothwell, in 1503. In
the next year he became abbot of Dunfermline and prior
of Whitern ; and in 1505, through the favour of king
James VI. , to whom he was greatly acceptable, was pro-
moted to the office of lord high treasurer. In 1508 he
was elected bishop of Galloway, and, in the same year,
was raised to the archiepiscopal see of Glasgow, on which
he resigned the treasurer's place.
2 l
102 BEATON.
When, after the battle of Flodden- field, the regency was
entrusted to the queen mother, Beaton was a prominent
member of the council appointed to advise her; and
when, through her marriage with the earl of Angus, her
authority ceased, it was chiefly through his intervention
that the duke of Albany was enabled to succeed to the
government. He was rewarded by the grateful regent
on his accession to power (1515) with the office of
chancellor of the kingdom. He obtained at the same
time the abbacies of Arbroath and Kilwinning, in com-
mendam.
In 1522 he became archbishop of St Andrews and pri-
mate of the Scottish Church. Referring the reader to the
history of Scotland for a narrative of Beaton's conduct as a
statesman, we shall only mention here, that in his primacy
the first blood was shed in the cause of protestantism.
There were many good and earnest men who felt that a
reform was required in the established church, but the
government was unsettled and the age was revolutionary,
and they were afraid to move. Their constant reference,
however, to the corruptions of the Scottish establishment,
awakened the enthusiasm and inflamed the passions of
younger men. A party among the nobles who envied the
wealth of the Church, and were unscrupulous in their mea-
sures for the advancement of their faction, were soon found
to encourage the protestant feeling. At the same time
Scotland was divided into two great parties, the one deter-
mined to maintain the independence of the country, and
in the French interest, the other in the English interest,
ready, from personal motives, to bring Scotland into sub-
jection to the English crown. As the protestants belonged
entirely to the latter party, they were of course obnoxious
on political as well as on religious grounds to the exist-
ing government. Every conservative feeling was aroused
against the innovators, who were seeking to reform the
Church, and in their zeal for reform would not care to
sacrifice the independence of their country. The pro-
BEATON. Ki3
testants, at first consisted of earnest and zealous men,
admired for their talents and respected for their vir-
tues : while they remained few in number and beneath
notice as a party, the government was quiescent, notwith-
standing the frequent exhortations of timid conservatives
who required that strong measures should be adopted to
put them down. The fury of those, who, attached to the
establishment of the country, required the destruction of
the innovators, has not been surpassed even by the violence
of puritans, when, at a subsequent period, puritanism was
in the ascendant : the heads of the Church and the minis-
ters of the crown were rebuked as careless and indifferent
by those who arrogated to themselves the title of their
best supporters. In the meantime hot-headed young men
had joined the protectant party, and the whole party had
been hurried into excesses ; they boldly proclaimed that
tithes ought not to be paid to the clergy, that every faith-
ful man and woman is a priest, that the unction of kings
ceased at the coming of Christ, that the blessing of bishops
is of no value, that excommunication of the Church is
not to be feared, that oaths are in all cases unlawful,
that true Christians receive the Body of Christ every day :
many added that man has no free will, that all good Chris-
tians know that they are under grace, that works can make
us neither good nor evil, and can neither save nor con-
demn us ; they even went so far as to say that God is the
author of sin, since He withholds his grace from some, and
since without grace they must of necessity sin. The poli-
tical principles maintained by this party may be gathered
from the account of John Major, the author of the De
Gestis Sectorum, as given by Dr Mc'Crie, who says that
he taught "that the authority of kings and princes were
originally derived from the people; that the former are not
superior to the latter collectively considered ; that if the
rulers become tyrannical, or employ their power for the
destruction of their subjects, they may lawfully be con-
trolled by them ; and proving incorrigible may be deposed
by the community as the superior power; and that tyrants
104 BEATON.
may be judicially proceeded against, even to capital pun-
ishment. "The affinity," he adds, "between these and
the political opinions afterwards avowed by Knox, and de-
fended by the classic pen of Buchannan, is too striking to
require illustration." However consistent these principles
may have been with the religion of John Knox, who justi-
fied the murder of Cardinal Beaton and David Rizzio, —
who deposed the queen-regent of Scotland, and embittered
the life of her daughter by his insults, — we are not to be
surprised at finding the conservative feeling of the nation
excited against those who at first maintained them ; or
that when the innovators increased in number, the autho-
rities in church and state should determine to act against
them. They thought, by acting vigorously, to put an end
to what they regarded as an evil. In those days it never
occurred to any one that such an evil could be corrected
except by a public execution. The same class of persons
who a few years ago justified the custom of executing those
who had been convicted of forgery, on the ground that
whatever other good qualities they possessed, the welfare
of a commercial country required their death, would, at
the period now under consideration, demand for the same
reasons the blood of heretics. Blood indeed was shed on
all sides, catholics had recourse to legal executions, pro-
testants to assasinations and murder, each party thinking
the means to be justified by the end.
The first victim was Patrick Hamilton, abbot of Feme,
a Premonstratensian monastery in Ross-shire, who having
learned protestantism from Luther and Melancthon in
Germany, preached it with vehemence on his return home.
He was tried, found guilty, and executed at St Andrews.
But persecution has never answered the purpose for which
it was intended, and as if to mark the divine disapproba-
tion, the result always is, that it proves injurious to the
cause it was designed to serve. This was seen to be the
case by the religious as distinguished from the political
catholics of the period, insomuch that in 1533, when a
young Benedictine. Henry Forest, was condemned to
BEATON. 105
be burnt, one of the archbishops recommended that he
should be burnt in a cellar, for, said he, " the smoke of
Patrick Hamilton hath infected all those on whom it
blew." The manner in which evidence was obtained
against both Hamilton and Forest was infamous : they
were both entrapped by pretended friends into a con-
fession which was used as evidence against them ; and in
the case of Forest, this confession was made sacramen-
tally, and in receiving as well as giving it for the purpose
of condemning him, a principle of the Church was grossly
violated. But Forest seems to have been a man of violent
temper. When he was to be degraded he cried with a
loud voice " Fie a' falsehood ! fie a' false friars ! revealers
of confession : after this day let no man ever trust any
false friars, contemners of God's word and deceivers of
men." When they proceeded to degrade him of his orders,
he said with a loud voice, " Take from me not only your
orders, but also your own baptism."
James Beaton was a man of enormous wealth, and was
described by the English ambassadors as " the man next
the king, of the greatest substance both of lands and goods,
and most esteemed for his policy and wisdom of others."
He lived magnificently, and nearly succeeded in purcha-
sing a cardinal's hat. When it is added that in private
life he was licentious, it will be seen how much the Scot-
tish church at this time needed a reform, and how natural
were the feelings of indignation which the protestants
exhibited, although those feelings hurried them to frightful
excesses. He was not devoid of humanity, and the design
of the new Divinity Hall at Aberdeen was conceived by
him, though he did not live to execute it.
He died in 1539. With reference to his persecutions, it
is said that he was very reluctant to have recourse to them,
and acted rather as a conservative statesman than as a
theologian, for, as Spotiswood observes, " he was neither
violently set, nor indeed much solicitous, as was thought,
how matters went in the Church." — Spotiswood. Keith.
Tytler. Lyons Hist, of St Andrews. Crawford.
106 BEATON.
Beaton, David, nephew to the archbishop, of the same
name, of whom an account has been given in the preceding
article, was born in the year 1494, and was educated first
at St Andrews and afterwards at Paris, where he greatly
distinguished himself. He remained in France for some
time after his ordination, and was at an early period em-
ployed by John duke of Albany. As David Beaton, like
his uncle, was more a statesman than a divine, it will be
unnecessary to do more than allude to the many prefer-
ments he held, and to refer the reader to Tytler's History
of Scotland for an account of his administration and poli-
tical intrigues. But we cannot refrain from again alluding
to the miserable condition of the church in Scotland, when
ecclesiastical preferments were thus used as the cheap
means of remunerating a minister of the crown ; nor let
it be forgotten that this was done with the full sanction of
the pope of Rome. When in 1528 he became abbot of
Arbroath, the pope, dispensed with his taking the habit
for two years, at the wish of the king, who desired his
attendance in France. In the application made in his
behalf, Beaton was styled protonotary of St Andrews,
the king's domestic counsellor and servant, and chancellor
of the church of Glasgow. He had been appointed in
1519 resident at the court of France, and at that time,
being only in deacon's orders, he received from the arch-
bishop of Glasgow the rectory of Campsay. In 1528 he be-
came Lord High Privy Seal ; and by his advice, it is
said, James established in 1530 the college of Justice.
In his various " missions for political objects to France, he
so conciliated the esteem of Francis I., that in 1537 the
French king granted him a license to hold lands and to
acquire benefices in France ; and at the same time con-
ferred upon him the bishopric of Mirepoix. On his return
to Scotland he became coadjutor of his uncle the arch-
bishop of St Andrews, and, owing to the infirmities of his
grace, possessed all the power and influence which at that
time attached to the metropolitan see. On the 28th of
December, 1538, pope Paul III. raised him to the dignity
of Cardinal in the Roman church, by the title of St Ste-
BEATON. 107
phen in Monte Coelio. He was thus a Scotch archbishop,
a French bishop, and a Roman cardinal. On the death
of James Beaton, a few months afterwards, he succeeded
to the primacy of the Scottish church.
As soon as he had been appointed to the primacy he
determined to act vigorously against the reforming party.
He was himself a man of licentious habits, a statesman,
and even a warrior : he is said on one occasion to have
challenged an opponent to single combat ; he was secular
in all his feelings ; he cared therefore as little for religion
as the mere political advocate of Church and state in the
present day, although violent against all opponents. But
the reformers in Scotland were radical reformers, and
were prepared for revolution in the state, as well as in the
Church : in England where, except during the short reign
of Mary, the civil authorities were favourable to a reform
in the Church, the leading reformers were inclined to pay
a deference to the crown which must be considered by us
excessive ; but in Scotland, where an anti-reform govern-
ment existed they were goaded on almost to frenzy, and
were prepared for any revolutionary violence. Cardinal
Beaton, therefore, as a politician, determined to put them
down with a strong hand, and being a churchman also,
was able to avail himself of the instru mentality of the
Church. Accordingly he repaired to St Andrews attended
by the earls of Huntley, Arran, Marshal, and Montrose ;
the lords Fleming, Lindsay, Erskine, Somerville, Torphi-
chen, and Seaton, and several other barons and men of
rank; together with five bishops; and there, in May 1540,
he held a visitation, at which, enquiry was made after
heretics, and sir John Borthwick was condemned for con-
tumacy. About the same time John Killor, a black friar,
Duncan Simpson, a priest of Stirling, Dean Thomas
Forret, vicar of Dalor and canon regular, John Beverage,
black friar, and Robert Forrester, were condemned as
heresiarchs or chief heretics and teachers of heresy. We
are led to pity these sufferers the more, when we consider
the state of the established church in Scotland at tins
108 BEATON.
period. The bishops, of whom the cardinal was not the
worst specimen, were most of them worldly men, thinking
more of their own honour than of promoting God's glory ;
the clergy, when ecclesiastical honours were not within
their reach, were, with some honourable exceptions, seek-
ing their comforts, and among them concubinage very
generally prevailed: a fact which proved their sensual
character, and tended to increase and perpetuate their de-
moralization. They were not permitted to be honourably
married, and though they considered themselves to be so
virtually, yet they felt that there was a stigma upon their
character, and that they could not be accounted devout
men, and so they fell into carelessness of living. That
earnest minded men should be offended at this state of
things is not to be wondered at ; nor is it surprising that
from censuring the conduct of the clergy they should pro-
ceed to a protest against the many strange doctrines
which had crept into the Church : as the first reformers
were generally of the clerical order, it was the more
natural that they should thus go to the root of the evil.
By the bishops and leading persons in Church and state
they were met with hatred and contempt, with misrepre-
sentation and abuse; and thus by degrees, those who com-
menced their career, like sir John Borthwick, who has
just been mentioned, as very moderate reformers, were
hurried on to the most unjustifiable excesses, and instead
of seeking to reform the Church, joined in the infidel cry
of " down with it, down with it, even to the ground."
Well would it have been for Beaton if his angry feel-
ings could have evaporated in a mere visitation charge, or
if the latitudinarian conservatives of the day had been con-
tented with a censure of the reformers upon paper. He
was unfortunately invested with arbitrary power, and
arbitrarily did he use it. By the class of men who would
in these days crowd Exeter Hall to hear a denunciation of
the papists, consigning in their imaginations those from
whom they differed to everlasting perdition, Beaton was
in those days applauded. His course was approved by
BEATON. 109
the nobles of the land, until their influence was purchased
by the reformers through the offer of the property of the
Church.
Cardinal Beaton, like his uncle, though scandalous as a
prelate, was nevertheless an honourable man of the world,
and a lover of his countiy. In order to obtain and to pre-
serve his political influence and station, he had recourse
to all the arts of the politician, but the honour and inde-
pendence of Scotland was ever near his heart. The re-
formers, and those of the nobility who from political con-
siderations joined their party, were willing to hand over
the government of Scotland to the king of England, who
was intriguing for this purpose. It had long been a
favourite object with Henry VIII to unite the two king-
doms under one of his own family : the immediate end
aimed at by himself and his faction in Scotland was
to effect a marriage union between his son, prince Edward,
and Mary, the infant queen of Scots ; and he stipulated to
have charge of the infant queen's person and education, and
to be put in possession of the chief fortresses in Scotland, to
enjoy the title of Protector of Scotland, with power to ap-
point a local regent to act under his directions. How any
patriotic mind could consent to such a measure it is diffi-
cult to imagine : the cardinal was resolutely opposed to it,
and the whole of his ministerial career seems to have
been devoted to the frustration of the schemes of the
English king. Cardinal Beaton had therefore in Henry
a deadly and unscrupulous enemy. Henry the VIHth
had the more power as he was regarded as the patron of
the reformation in Scotland, and as the reformers at all
times looked for protection from him. The royal reformer
checked the excesses of the reforming party in England as
caprice might suggest, or sound policy dictate ; but in
Scotland he gave the reformers his consistent support. In
point of morals there was not much to choose between the
illustrious reformer on the one hand, and the head of the
Scottish conservatives in Church and state on the other,
VOL II. K
110 BEATON.
but it must be admitted that Beaton never had recourse to
such base and mean arts against his adversary, as Henry,
to his everlasting disgrace, condescended to employ. Not
only did Henry, through his minister, seek at one time to
destroy, by misrepresentation, the influence of Beaton with
his sovereign, but he entered at a later period into a con-
spiracy for his private assassination. The offer was made
by the earl of Cassilis, one of the reformers, " for the
killing of the cardinal if his majesty would have it done,
and promise when it was done a reward." The king's
answer to the earl of Hertford, through whom the pro-
posal was transmitted, was, " that his highness reputing
the fact not meet to be set forward expressly by his ma-
jesty will not seem to do in it, and yet not misliking the
offer, thinketh it good that Mr Sadler," to whom Cassilis,
in the first instance, made the offer, " should write to the
earl," and say, that he had not thought proper to com-
municate the project to the king, but that "if he were in
the earl of Cassilis's place, and were as able to do his
majesty good service there, as he knoweth him to be, and
thinketh a right good will in him to do it, he would surely
do what he could for the execution of it," trusting that
" the king's majesty would consider his service in the
same."
The conspirators, as cautious as Henry, were not
satisfied with this answer, and the plot was not immedi-
ately executed, though the assassination of the cardinal at
no distant period was determined upon. Of those who
were fixed upon to carry into effect this diabolical plot,
some were personal enemies of the cardinal, seeking an
opportunity of revenge, some were mercenary wretches,
ready to execute any villany for money, and others were
reforming preachers. Among the persons engaged in
the plot, George Wishart, called by presbyterians " the
martyr," was one; and there seems to be little doubt that
Beaton was well informed of its existence, Wishart,
besides his personal hostility to the cardinal, was under the
BEATON. Ill
influence of excited religious feeling ; he peramly
the counties of Scotland, denouncing popery and the
bishops of the established church, under the armed pro-
tection of the principal conspirators, over whom he exer-
considerable influence, and at whose hoiu
lived. From his knowledge of the conspiracy, and his
acquaintance with the political intrigues of the day, he
sometimes ventured to prophecy, and this he did with
such accuracy, that many religious persons, who were
moved by his preaching, regarded him as inspired. I
these circumstances, Beaton determined to have him
arrested and tried on a charge of heresy, which he knew,
as the law then stood, he would have no difficulty in
substantiating. Accordingly, he prevailed on the governor
of Scotland to send a troop of horse under the command
of the earl of Bothwell, in the beginning of the year 1546,
into East Lothian, where Wishart was staving with one of
the conspirators. Two celebrated reformers were in his
company at the time, John Knox and James Melville : it
was suspicious company, for John Knox maintained the
general doc-trine that it was lawful to destroy tyrants, and
the preacher Melville actually gave the fatal stroke to the
cardinal. As soon as Wishart was secured, he was
to St Andrews, and placed under the charge of the cardinal
himself, who hastened his trial. The forms of ji
appear to have been strictly observed at the trial, and
Wishart, though the real cause of his death was his deter-
mination to assassinate the cardinal, since this could not
be at the time substantiated, though we have now in our
possession full proof of the fact, was condemned as a
heretic. His execution as a heretic excited the compas-
sion of the protestants, and disgusted many who had not
avowed themselves such. He endured his sufferings with
apparent composure and astonishing fortitude, being exe-
cuted on the first of March, 1546. He was accounted a
martyr to the protestant cause, till of late years : but now,
when his share in the conspiracy has been fully proved
his name will probably be obliterated from the protestant
112 BEATON.
calender, except by those who consider that the end jus-
tifies the means however atrocious, and that we may do
wrong that good may come.
Immediately after Wishart's execution, the cardinal set
out on a journey to Tindhaven, for the purpose of marrying
his daughter to the master of Crawford. The bride
received a dower of a thousand marks sterling from her
father, and the ceremony was performed in a style of
uncommon magnificence. Although the cardinal was
accused by his enemies of various intrigues, his daughter
Margaret was his legitimate offspring, for he was married
before he entered into holy orders, and by his wife,
Marion Ogilby, daughter of the first lord Ogilby of Airly,
he had several children. It was not probable that he
would at this period have outraged public decency by
celebrating with such magnificence the marriage of an
illegitimate daughter. After the marriage, the cardinal
returned to St Andrews, to strengthen his fortifications
against another threatened attack of his enemy, king
Henry VIII.
Meanwhile the conspirators were not idle. Either
trembling for their own fate, or anxious to be revenged
for the death of their friend Wishart, they resolved to
delay no longer the accomplishment of their plot. Having
succeeded in gaining admission into the castle of St
Andrews, they murdered the cardinal on the 29th of May,
1546. The following is Tytler's eloquent account of the
bloody deed : — " On the evening of the 28th May, Norman
Lesley came, with only five followers, to St Andrews, and
rode, without exciting suspicion, to his usual inn. William
Kirkaldy of Grange was there already, and they were soon
joined by John Lesley, who took the precaution of entering
the town after night-fall, as his appearance, from his
known enmity to Beaton, might have raised alarm. Next
morning at day-break, the conspirators assembled in small
detached knots in the vicinity of the castle ; and the
porter having lowered the drawbridge to admit the masons
employed in the new works, Norman Lesley, and three
BEATON. 113
men with him, passed the gates, and inquired if the
cardinal was yet awake ? This was done without suspi-
cion ; and as they were occupied in conversation, James
Melville, Kirkaldy of Grange, and their followers, entered
unnoticed ; but on perceiving John Lesley who followed,
the porter instantly suspected treason, and, springing to
the drawbridge, had unloosed its iron fastening, when the
conspirator Lesley anticipated his purpose by leaping
across the gap. To despatch him with their daggers, cast
the body into the fosse, and seize the keys of the castle,
employed but a few minutes; and all was done with
such silence as well as rapidity, that no alarm had been
given. With equal quietness the workmen who laboured
on the ramparts were led to the gate and dismissed.
Kirkaldy, who was acquainted with the castle, then took
his station at a private postern, through which alone any
escape could be made ; and the rest of the conspirators
going successively to the apartments of the different gen-
tlemen who formed the prelate's household, awoke them,
and threatening instant death if they spoke, led them one
by one to the outer wicket, and dismissed them unhurt.
In this manner, a hundred workmen and fifty household
servants were disposed of by a handful of men, who,
closing the gates and dropping the portcullis, were com-
plete masters of the castle. Meanwhile, Beaton, the
unfortunate victim, against whom all this hazard had been
encountered, was still asleep ; but awakening, and hearing
an unusual bustle, he threw on a night-gown, and drawing
up the window of his bedchamber, inquired what it
meant ? Being answered that Norman Lesley had taken
the castle, he rushed to the private postern, but seeing it
already guarded, returned speedily to his own apartment,
seized his sword, and, with the assistance of his page,
barricaded the door on the inside with his heaviest
furniture. John Lesley now coming up, demanded admit-
tance. ' Who are you?' said the cardinal. 'My name/
he replied, « is Lesley.' — ' Is it Norman ?' — asked the
k-2
114 BEATON.
unhappy man, remembering probably the bond of man-
rent. ' I must have Norman, he is my friend.' — ■ Nay, I
am not Norman,' answered the ruffian, ' but John ; and
with me ye must be contented.' Upon which he called
for fire, and was about to apply it to the door, when it
was unlocked from within. The conspirators now rushed
in, and Lesley and Carmichael throwing themselves
furiously upon their victim, who earnestly implored mercy,
stabbed him repeatedly. But ^Melville, a milder fanatic,
(' a man,' says Knox, • of nature most gentle and most
modest,') who professed to murder, not from passion, but
from religious duty, reproved their violence. ■ This judg-
ment of God,' said he, ' ought to be executed with gravity,
although in secret ;' and presenting the point of his sword
to the bleeding prelate, he called on him to repent of his
wicked courses, and especially of the death of the holy
Wishart, to avenge whose innocent blood they were now
sent by God. 'Remember,' said he, 'that the mortal
stroke I am now about to deal, is not the mercenary blow
of a hired assassin, but the just vengeance which hath
fallen on an obstinate and cruel enemy of Christ and the
holy gospel.' On saying this, he repeatedly passed his
sword through the body of his unresisting victim, who
sunk down from the chair to which he had retreated, and
instantly expired. The alarm had now risen in the town ;
the common bell was rung ; and the citizens, with their
^provost, running in confused crowds to the side of the
fosse, demanded admittance, crying out that they must
instantly speak with my lord cardinal. They were an-
swered from the battlements that it would be better for
them to disperse, as he whom they called for could not
come to them, and would not trouble the world any longer.
This, however, only irritated them the more, and being
urgent that they would speak with him, Norman Lesley
reproved them as unreasonable fools who desired an
audience of a dead man ; and dragging the body to the
spot, hung it by a sheet over the wall, naked, ghastly, and
BEATON 115
bleeding from its recent wounds. ' There,' saidj he,
■ there is your God ; and now ye are satisfied, get you
home to your houses:' a command which the people
instantly obeyed. Thus perished cardinal David Beaton,
the most powerful opponent of the reformed religion in
Scotland — by an act which some authors, even in the
present day, have scrupled to call murder. To these
writers, the secret and long-continued correspondence with
England was unknown; a circumstance perhaps to be
regretted, as it would have saved some idle and angry
reasoning. By its disclosure, we have been enabled to
trace the secret history of those iniquitous times ; and it
may now be pronounced, without fear of contradiction,
that the assassination of Beaton was no sudden event,
arising simply out of indignation for the fate of Wishart,
but an act of long projected murder, encouraged, if not
originated, by the English monarch, and, so far as the
principal conspirators were concerned, committed from
private and mercenary motives."
It is lamentable to be obliged to add that the murderers
of Beaton were not thought the worse of by the protest-
ants, for the part they had taken against their common
enemy. They received pensions from the royal reformers
of England, Henry VIII. and Edward VI. ; most of them
rose to high rank in the army ; John Knox, from his
" merry account" of the transaction, and from his calling
it a "godly deed," evidently approved of the murder, and
was probably privy to it : for he was domestic tutor in the
family of the laird of Langnidding, one of Wishart 's
protectors ; he was the intimate friend and sword-bearer
of "the martyr," and subsequently joined the conspirators
in the castle of St. Andrews. Besides this, the " Diurnal
of occurrents in Scotland," expressly states that John
Knox " took pairt of the said treason." Again, James
Melville, as Knox himself tells us, "was familiarly
acquainted with George Wishart," and when he presented
the sword to the cardinals breast, made use of these words,
116 BEAUCAIRE.
4< remember that the fatal stroke I am now about to deal
is not the mercenary blow of a hired assassin, but the just
vengeance which hath fallen on an obstinate, cruel enemy
of Christ and his holy gospel." Alas, that the name of
the Son of God should thus be blasphemed by an assassin,
and alas ! still more, that in the act of murder, the deceitful
and desperately wicked heart should think it was doing
God service. But even Fox, the protestant martyrologist,
affirms that the murderers " were stirred up by the Lord to
murder the archbishop in his bed ;" and the presbyterian
historian, Calderwood, says, " the cardinal intended fur-
ther mischief, if the Lord had not stirred up some men
of courage to cut him off in time." All this, says Mr Lyon,
from whose learned dissertation (appendix, xlii.) these
particulars are taken, " all this shows that in those times
it was not unusual, even among men of high rank, and
professing uncommon piety, to do evil that good might
come, or to justify others in doing so." — Tytler. Lyon.
Spot is wood. Keith. Skinner.
Beaucaire de Peguillon, Francis, was born April
loth, 1514, of one of the most ancient families of the
Bourbonnois, and was one of the first gentlemen of his
nation who applied himself to the study of literature. He
was chosen by Claude de Lorraine, the first duke of
Guise, to be preceptor to his son, cardinal Charles de
Lorraine. He attended the cardinal de Lorraine to Rome,
and on his return the cardinal procured for him the
bishopric of Metz. It wTas reported that the cardinal
retained the revenues of the see, though the report can
only be traced to the imagination of certain calvinists of
Metz, who could not otherwise account for the cardinal's
resignation. The calvinists were alarmed on his arrival
at Metz ; and many of them, to escape martyrdom, fled
from the town, to which they returned on finding that the
zeal of the new prelate merely vented itself in two Latin
tracts on " Sanctification" and " The Baptism of Infants,"
which, as the majority could not understand them, the
BEAUFORT. 117
calvinist leaders pronounced to be easily refuted. He was
taken afterwards by the cardinal to the council of Trent,
and it was before that assembly that Beaucaire delivered
the speech which is to be found in his history of his own
time. At- the council of Trent a misunderstanding occurred
between the cardinal and the bishop of Metz, the latter
having given offence to the ultra-montane members of the
council, by declaring that bishops received their authority
immediately from God, and that they were not merely the
pope's delegates, and that the pope's power is not un-
limited. This is the catholic doctrine, but papists and
presbyterians are, as regards the divine right of episcopacy,
of one mind. He resigned his bishopric in 1568, and
retired to the castle of Creste, his birth-place, where he
spent his time in study till his death. He composed in
his retreat a history of his own time, which was published
in 1625, under the title, Rerum Gallicarum Commentaria,
fol. Lyon. He also wrote a discourse on the battle of
Dreux, 4to, Brescia, 1563, reprinted more than once, and
a treatise De Infantium in Matrum Uteris Sanctificatione,
8vo, Par. 1565, 1567. The latter treatise was written in
opposition to the tenets of the calvinists, who hold that
the children of the faithful are sanctified from their
mothers, a tenet which implies the denial of original sin,
and of the necessity of infant baptism. He died February
14th, 1591.— Moreri. Boyle.
Beaufoet, Henry, was the son of John of Gaunt,
duke of Lancaster, by Catherine Swinford : his character
belongs to the history of statesmen rather than that of
divines. He studied for some years at Oxford, but had
his education chiefly at Aix la Chapelle, where he applied
himself to the civil and common law. The corruptions
of the church of England were at that time many and
great, and the young ecclesiastic was in 1397 elected
bishop of Lincoln in the room of John Buckingham, who
was unjustly compelled to resign. In 1399 he became
chancellor of Oxford and dean of Wells ; in 1404 he was
118 BEAUFORT
appointed lord high chancellor, and the following year
succeeded the celebrated William of Wykeham, in the see
of Winchester. In 1417 he went to the Holy Land, and
in his way attended the council of Constance, where he
exhorted the prelates to union and agreement in the
election of a pope : his remonstrances are said to have
contributed not a little to the preparations for the conclave
in which Martin III. was elected. He was ambitious to
become a cardinal, an office always unpopular in the
church of England, as binding the holder of it to a foreign
church. Henry V. opposed any such appointment as long
as he lived, but in the next reign, during the royal
minority, he obtained the consent of the duke of Bedford,
the regent. He received the cardinal's hat at Calais, in
1426, with the title of St Eusebius. On his return to
England he was received with due respect, but by a
proclamation in the king's name was prohibited from
exercising his legatine power. The proclamation is as
follows : " Whereas the most Christian king Henry VI,
and his progenitors, kings before him of this realm of
England, have been heretofore possessed time out of mind,
with a special privilege and -custom used and observed in
this realm, from time to time, that no legate from the
apostolic see shall enter this land, or auy of the king's
dominions, without the calling, petition, request, invita-
tion, or desire of the king; and forasmuch as Henry,
bishop of Winchester, and cardinal of St Eusebius, hath
presumed to enter as legate from the pope, being neither
called nor desired by the king; therefore the king, by his
procurator, Richard Caudray, doth protest, by this instru-
ment, that it standeth not with the king's mind or intent,
by the advice of Iris council, to admit, approve, or ratify,
the coming of the said legate in any wise, in derogation of
the rights and customs of this realm, or to allow and assent
to any exercise of his legantine power, or to any acts
attempted by him, contrary to the said laws." Such was
the determination of our rulers, to maintain the liberty of
our church, when, by the ambition of private prelates, it was
BEAUFORT. 119
betrayed to the pope, even as in later years, from the same
cause, it has been brought into subjection to the state.
In 1429 he was, however, appointed the pope's legate
in Germany, and general of the crusade against the
Hussites, or heretics of Bohemia, and he prevailed on the
English parliament to make him a grant of money, with
permission to raise a force of 250 spearmen and 2500
bowmen, to enable him to conduct the expedition. Even
with these he was obliged previously to serve for a certain
time under the duke of Bedford in France. He conducted
the crusade in Bohemia with doubtful success, until he
was recalled by the pope, and cardinal Julian was sent in
his place, with a larger army.
In 1430 he crowned Henry VI. at Notre Dame, in
Paris, and was at this period employed in various diplo-
matic affairs in France and Flanders, but finding that the
duke of Gloucester was intriguing against him, he found
it necessary to return to England. Among other articles
of impeachment, which had been exhibited against him
by Gloucester, we find one to be, that "the bishop of
Winchester had not only taken upon himself the dignity
and title of a cardinal, contrary to the express command
of king Henry V, and in derogation of the church of
Canterbury, but having forfeited his bishopric thereby, by
the act of provisions, he had procured a bull from the pope
to secure his bishopric to him, contrary to the laws of the
realm, which made it praemunire to do so." The laws of
the realm protected the liberties of our venerable estab-
lishment, which were, as we have seen before, too often
betrayed by the ambition of individual prelates. The
cardinal, however, prevailed over his opponents, and
obtained letters of pardon from the king, for all offences
by him committed, contrary to the statute of provisions,
and other acts of praemunire. Five years after he obtained
another pardon under the great seal, for all sorts of crimes,
from the creation of the world to the 26th of July, 143T !
This looks like a stretch of the prerogative.
120 BEAUFORT.
The history of the cardinal from the time of his return
to England, becomes little more than the history of his
struggle with the duke of Gloucester, who died suddenly
at Bury St Edmund's, in May, 1447. The cardinal
survived the duke of Gloucester not above a month. The
public feeling was in favour of the duke and against the
cardinal, and Shakespeare has perhaps unjustly depre-
ciated the cardinal, in order to elevate the character of
" the good duke Humphrey." But there is no evidence of
his having been, as was suspected, the contriver of the
duke's murder, or of his being the covetous and reprobate
character which Shakespeare has represented. On the
contrary, we find that when Henry V, a little before his
death, to meet the debts he had contracted by his wars,
cast his eyes upon the wealth of the Church, and was
advised to supply his wants out of the spoils thereof, the
bishop of Winchester, to avert the evil, advanced him as
a loan, twenty thousand pounds out of his own pocket, a
prodigious sum in those days. If such generosity had
existed in our own days, the confiscation of the Irish
bishoprics and of the cathedral property, might have been
averted. At all events, if he amassed great sums, the
public, not a private family, was benefited. He employed
his wealth in finishing the magnificent cathedral of Win-
chester, which was left incomplete by his predecessor ; in
repairing Hyde Abbey, since robbed and destroyed, in the
same city; in relieving prisoners, and other works of
charity. But as Dr Milner remarks, what has chiefly
redeemed the character of cardinal Beaufort in Winchester
and its neighbourhood, is the new foundation which he
made of the celebrated hospital of St Cross. For the
greater part of the present building was raised by him,
and he added to the establishment of his predecessor,
Henry de Blois, funds for the support of thirty-five more
brethren, two chaplains, and three women, who appear to
have been sisters of charity. The foundation still exists ;
but exists to the disgrace of our Church. It would be
well to ascertain how the funds are applied, and whether
BEAUMONT. 121
what was intended for charity, shall still be permitted
only to enrich a master. While such abuses exist, we
may not, for very shame, speak of idle monks. It appears,
also, says Dr Milner, that Beaufort prepared himself with
resignation and contrition for his last end ; and the codicil
of his will being signed only two days before his death,
may justly bring into discredit the opinion that he died in
despair. He directed two thousand marks to be distri-
buted among the poorer tenants of the bishopric, and
forgave the rest all that was due to him at the time of his
death. He left almost to every cathedral and collegiate
church in England jewels and plate of considerable value,
particularly to the church of Wells, of which he had been
dean, 283 ounces of gilt plate, and £418 in money. It is
but justice to record this of one who had suffered himself
to be too much involved in the vortex of politics, and was
often a prey to the passions to which politics give rise.
— Godwin. Milner's Hist, of Winchester. Gough's Life of
Beaufort.
Beaumont, Lewis, was descended from the blood royal
of France and Sicily, and was thus related to queen
Isabella, consort of Edward II. He was made treasurer
of Salisbury in the year 1294, and was advanced to the
see of Durham in 1317, under circumstances which re-
flected great disgrace on the Church. The whole proceed-
ing is one of those many instances to v>hich we have
frequently had occasion to refer, which shews how, during
the middle ages, our excellent establishment was brought
under the dominion of the popes, through the contests
between ambitious ecclesiastics and unscrupulous sove-
reigns. " There were several candidates for the vacant
bishopric. The earl of Lancaster made interest for one
John de Kynardsley, promising, in case of his election, to
defend the see against the Scots. The earl of Hereford
pushed for John Walwayn, a civilian. The king, who was
then at York, would have promoted the election of Thomas
VOL. II. l
1-2-2 BEAUMONT.
Charlton, a civilian, and keeper of his privy seal : but the
queen interposed so warmly in behalf of her kinsman,
Lewis Beaumont, that the king was prevailed upon to
write letters to the monks in his favour. Those religious,
having previously obtained the king's leave to proceed
to an election, rejected all these applications, and made
choice of Henry de Stamford, prior of Finchale, an elderly
man, of a fair character and pleasing aspect, and a good
scholar. The king would have consented to the election,
had it not been for the queen, who on her bare knees
humbly intreated him that her kinsman might be bishop
of Durham. Whereupon the king refused to admit Henry
de Stamford, and wrote to the pope in favour of Beaumont.
At the same time the monks sent the bishop elect to the
pope's court for his holiness's confirmation : but, before
his arrival, the pope, at the instances of the kings and
queens of France and England, had conferred the bishop-
ric on Beaumont. And, to make Henry some amends,
his holiness gave him a grant of the priory of Durham
upon the next vacancy ; but he did not live to enjoy it."
According to the account of Godwin, it is not surprising
that even so unscrupulous a pope as John XXII, should
hesitate at the appointment. Of Beaumont it is related
by Godwin that " he could not read the bulls and other
instruments of his consecration. When he should have
pronounced this word metropoliticm, not knowing what
to make of it, (though he had studied upon it and
laboured his lesson long before) after a little pause, Soyt
purdit (says he) let it go for read, and so passed it over.
In like sort he stumbled at In an'ujmate. When he
had fumbled about it a while, par Saint Lowys (quoth he)
il n est pas curtois qui ceste parolle ici escrit, that is, by
Saint Lewes, he is to blame that writ this word here. Not
without great cause, therefore, the pope was somewhat
straight laced in admitting him. He obtained consecra-
tion so harshly, as in fourteen years he could scarce creep
out of debt. Biding to Durham to be installed there, he
BEAUMONT. 123
was robbed (together with two cardinals that were then in
his company) upon Wiglesden moor near Darlington.
The captains of this route were named Gilbert Middleton
and "Walter Selby. Not content to take all the treasure of
the cardinals, the bishop, and their train, they carried the
bishop prisoner to Morpeth, where they constrained him
to pay a great ransom. Gilbert Middleton was soon after
taken at his own castle of Mitford, carried to London, and
there drawn and hanged in the presence of the cardinals.
After this, one sir Gosceline Deinuill, and his brother
Robert, came with a great company to divers of the bishop
of Durham's houses in the habits of friars, and spoiled
them, leaving nothing but bare walls, and did many other
notable robberies, for which they were soon after hanged
at York. This bishop stood very stoutly in defence of
the liberties of his see, recovered divers lands taken
away from Anthony Beake, his predecessor, and procured
his sentence to be given in the behalf of his church,
Quod episcopus Dunelmensis, debet habere forisfacturas
guerrarum intra libertates, sicut Bex extra, that the
bishop of Durham is to have the forfeitures of war in
as ample sort within his own liberties as the king without.
He compassed the city of Durham with a wall, and built
a hall, kitchen, and chapel at Middleton."
This bishop had a dispute with the archbishop of York,
his metropolitan, concerning the right of visitation in the
jurisdiction of Allerton ; and whenever the archbishop
came to visit, the bishop of Durham always opposed him
with an armed force.
With reference to the decision of the judges alluded to
in the quotation from Godwin, the learned editor of
Camden's Britannia tells us that " the bishop of Durham
antiently had his thanes, and afterwards his barons, who
held of him by knights service ; and that, on occasions of
danger, he called them together in the nature of a parlia-
ment, to advise and assist him with their persons, depend-
ants, and money, for the public service, either at home
or abroad. When men and money were to be levied, it
124 BEAUMONT.
was done by writs issued in the bishop's name out of the
chancery of Durham ; and he had power to raise able men
from sixteen to sixty years of age, and to arm and equip
them for his service. He often headed his troops in
person ; and the officers acted under his commission, and
were accountable to him for their duty. He had a dis-
cretionary power of marching out against the Scots, or of
making a truce with them. No person of the palatinate
could build a castle, or fortify his manor house, without
the bishop's license. And as he had military power by
land, so he had likewise by sea. Ships of war were fitted
out in the ports of the county palatine, by virtue of the
bishop's writs. He had his admiralty courts ; he ap-
pointed, by his patents, a vice-admiral, register, and
marshal or water bailiff, and had all the privileges, for-
feitures, and profits, incident to that jurisdiction."
Beaumont died at Brentingham, in the diocese of York,
September -24th, 1333, leaving the character behind him
of a worthless, avaricious, and prodigal prelate. — Godwin.
Wharton. Camden.
Beaumont, Joseph, was born at Hadleigh, in Suffolk,
in 1615. At the age of sixteen he went to Peter-house,
Cambridge, where he took his degrees, and obtained a
fellowship, of which he was deprived for his loyalty in the
civil war. He then retired to his native place, and after-
wards to Tatingston, with his wife, who was step-daughter
of his patron, Dr Wren, bishop of Ely. At the restoration
he recovered his preferments, was made chaplain in
ordinary to the king, aud obtained the degree of doctor in
divinity by mandamus. In 1663 he was appointed master
of Jesus college, from whence, the year following, he removed
to Peter-house ; with which headship he held the chair of
divinity. He was a man of delicate constitution, as
appears from his having been obliged to obtain from the
vice-chancellor of Cambridge a dispensation to eat meat
in Lent, because fish did not agree with him. This fact
shews that Church discipline was at that time observed in
BECCOLD. 12*
the university. He died in 1699. His works are — 1.
Psyche, a poem, folio, 1648 ; and again with additions,
in 1702. 2. Poems in English and Latin, with remarks
on the Epistle to the Colossians, 4to., 1749. — Jacob's
Lives of the Poets.
Beausobre, Isaac, was bom at Xiort, in upper Poitou,
in 1659. He studied at Saumur, after which he was
ordained, but his congregation being dissolved by the
revocation of the edict of Nantes he retired to Holland,
where he became chaplain to the princess of Anhalt
Dessau. His first work was an attack upon the Lutherans,
and was entitled, Defence de la doctrine des Reformes, in
which he endeavoured to shew that Calvinism was quite
as respectable in its origin as Lutheranism. He speaks
strongly against the bigotry of the Lutherans, for con-
demning all who do not interpret the Bible in the sense of
Luther. In 1694 he removed to Berlin, where he spent the
remainder of his life, and exercised his ministry as one of
the pastors of the French Calvinists} and also as chaplain
to their majesties. He was besides councellor of the royal
consistory, inspector of the French college, and of ail the
French calvinistic churches. He assisted Lenfant to pre-
pare a translation of the Xew Testament ; the Apocalypse
and the Epistles of St Paul were allotted to Beausobre.
The notes are said to have a Socinian tendency ; Calvin-
ism, when becoming liberal, having always a tendency in
that direction. He fell in love with a young girl, when
he was seventy years of age, and either seduced her or
suffered himself to be seduced by her. The familiarity
was soon apparent from her pregnancy, and a marriage
followed. The Calvinists prevented his preaching for four
or five years, and he employed his leisure in writing a
history of Manicheism. He died in 1738. Chauffepie's
Diet. Hist..
Beccold, (alias Bockhold, or Bockelson,) John. This
l a
130 BECOOLD.
leader of the anabaptists was born at Leyden, (and hence
he is called John of Leyden,) and is chiefly distinguished
by the part he took in the commotions excited at Munster,
in 1533, by the Dutch anabaptists, who, says Mosheim,
" chose that city as the scene of their horrid operations."
The progress of protestantism had been such, that the
senate of the city of Munster had driven away the bishop
and his clergy, and supplied their places in 1532 with
protestant ministers. The bishop had, in consequence,
besieged the city, but eventually entered into a treaty
with the inhabitants, by which it was agreed that catholics
and protestants should live peaceably together, that the
former should retain possession of the cathedral, but that
six churches should be appropriated to the protestants.
The treaty was signed on the 14th of February, 1533 ;
and such was the condition of the city, when John
Beccold, accompanied by John Mathias and Gerhard,
another anabaptist, appeared there in the November
following. Beccold's knowledge of Scripture was sur-
prising, and no one could surpass him in the fluency with
which he could quote it, and justify by scriptural authority
all his proceedings. He entered the city determined to
stand by the Bible only, and to maintain, against both
Catholics and Lutherans, the right of private judgment.
When Beccold had prepared a party, Mathias, the
original leader, appeared suddenly among them, and,
blowing on them, said, " Receive ye the Holy Ghost."
They were all of them excited to the highest pitch of
fanaticism, believing now that they had received a com-
mission from on high. Rothman, who had introduced
the reformation into the city, at first opposed them, but
afterwards joined the party, and such was its progress that
the anabaptists soon outnumbered the Lutherans. They
met at night, and converts were still crowding around the
anabaptist teachers, not only in the churches but in the
streets and the market-place. The magistrates in alarm
commanded the leaders to quit the town ; they went, but
BECCOLD. 127
almost immediately returned, declaring that God had
ordered them to remain in the town, and to labour con-
stantly to settle their doctrine there. In vain did the
magistrates invite the anabaptists to a conference, they
would not submit to any reasonable terms : Ruthus, one
of the chief of their preachers, on the contrary, pretending,
or supposing himself to act under divine inspiration, ran
through the city, in December, 1533, crying out ''Repent,
and be baptized again, or else the wrath of God will fall
upon you, for the day of the Lord is at hand." He
preached with wonderful success, and the re-baptized
assumed the title of saints. Peasants from different parts
of Westphalia crowded to the town, regarding the ana-
baptist doctrine as the perfection of protestantism. The
multitude took arms, and seizing the senate house, cried
out, that " they ought to massacre all who were not
re-baptized." The magistrates endeavoured to negociate,
but the anabaptists could not be bound by treaties, and
the magistrates and chief inhabitants fled, leaviDg the
town to the anabaptists. They elected a new senate and
new magistrates, and, raising through the city the cry,
"Repent, or depart this place, ye wicked," they drove away
all who were not of their religion. John Mathias was now
the chief authority, and Beccold, or John of Leyden, was
his lieutenant. The houses were plundered, and Mathias
commanded all the inhabitants, on pain of death, to bring
forth all their gold and silver, into the public treasury,
and to burn all their books but the Bible. He declared
that the bible only should be the law in his new kingdom.
The bishop, assisted by the elector of Cologne and the
duke of Treves, besieged the city, but was driven back,
the defenders being some thousands in number, all ani-
mated by the most wild enthusiasm, and a full conviction
that they, and they only, were the saints. But they
sustained a loss in the death of their leader Mathias,
during a sortie from the walls ; a loss, however, which
did not damp their courage, as Beccold was forthwith
raised to his place, and by his powerful eloquence, soon
128 BECCOLD.
had them under his control. He had. as was believed,
many revelations, and was regarded as a prophet ; one of
the tenets of the sect being, that every impulse from
within was a movement of the Divine Spirit. Under the
direction of a divine revelation, as he now pretended, after
three days silence, he changed the form of government,
and appointed twelve magistrates instead of the former
senate ; but the rule of the magistrates, though his own
creatures, did not continue long, for the people, who had
been taught that in the kingdom of grace all were equal,
and that authority, whether civil or ecclesiastical, was
a tyranny, were astonished one day at being informed that
the new Israel must henceforth be ruled by a king, and
that as the Lord had raised up Saul, so had he raised up
John of Leyden to rule his chosen people. It was per-
plexing, but the people could have no doubt about the
revelation, for to one Tuscoschierer the same revelation
was also made, and the two witnesses were of course
received. BeccolJ had now passed through fanaticism to
hypocrisy, and from licentiousness of intellect to licen-
tiousness of conduct. Still maintaining that he had the
authority of Scripture for all he did, he determined to
use, and to permit others to use, the liberty which, as he
blasphemously asserted, Christ had granted to his saints.
He married eleven wives, and polygamy was allowed as
not contrary to God's Word : he proved the fact to the
satisfaction of the people from the Old Testament ; and
when a simple man suggested that it was less easy to
substantiate the new law by the authority of the Xew
Testament, he was put to death. And now, indeed, blood
freely flowed, for as Beccold derived his authority from
(lod, a word or look which was offensive to him, rendered
the offender worthy of death. Sitting in the market place
as judge, he decided every case according to his own
caprice, pretending for each decision a revelation from
heaven. If a poor woman, not quite convinced of the
lawfulness of polygamy, complained that her husband had
taken another wife ; or if another concealed any portion
BECCOLD. log
of those treasures which ought to have been sent to the
common treasury ; or if a wife was accused by her husband
of disobedience — they were sent at once to the block, where
hundreds suffered for offences such as these. Arrayed in
splendid robes, with a crown on his head and a sceptre in
his hand, the quondam tailor of Leyden sat on the judg-
ment seat, protected by troops, and surrounded by coun-
sellors clad in purple.
While Munster was besieged, the anabaptists published
a book, " The Restitution," in which they promised to the
elect a kingdom hereafter with Christ, to be on earth,
before the day of judgment, and after the destruction of
the ungodly. They taught that the people had a right to
depose magistrates, to assume civil authority, and to
establish by force of arms a new form of government ; that
no man is to be tolerated in the Church who is not a true
Christian ; that none can be saved who retain any private
property; that the pope and Luther were two false
prophets, and (which, considering that they dated the
origin of their principles to him, was the severest blow,)
that Luther was the worst of the two ; that the marriages
of those who were not of the number of the truly faithful,
were impure and so many adulteries : these they taught,
with many other absurdities and abominations.
The anabaptists of Munster sent forth missionaries to
preach this doctrine, and their success was great, while
the enthusiasm with which they endured the penalties
they incurred, when persecuted in the different towns
in which they preached, as persons guilty of sedition, was
worthy of a better cause. The protestant magistrates,
though they had encouraged liberty of speech on religious
subjects to a certain extent, had no idea of tolerating it in
its extreme, and the anabaptist missionaries were soon
seized, examined, and executed. But before they died,
they did their friends in Munster irreparable, though un-
intended, injury : through them it was discovered that the
anabaptists of Munster were in great want of provisions
and ammunition, and the seige was prosecuted with
130 BECKET.
greater vigour. Beccold meantime was not inactive : he
sent two of his prophets into Holland, where the sect was
numerous, to procure reinforcements and provisions ; but
of these one betrayed him, another suffered death, and a
third went to the camp of the beseigers to consult on the
means of surrendering the city where famine was raging,
and many had become disaffected.
The landgrave of Hesse, in the mean time, had caused
their book, "The Restitution," to be confuted; and Luther,
who perceived how this outbreak of ultra-protestantism
would injure his cause, and strengthen the hands of the
Catholics, sent to the anabaptists of Munster " a sharp
book," in which he compares them to Jews and Mahome-
tans. Several other tracts were written on both sides, by
protestants, but nothing was determined.
At length the diet of Worms having granted fresh sup-
plies to the bishop of Munster the city was takerj, and
Beccold himself was dragged at a horse's tail from the
scene of his royalty to a dungeon in the castle. He en-
dured his sufferings and died with wonderful fortitude.
The city was taken on the 24th of June, 1535. Very
severe regulations were made against the anabaptists at
the assembly of Hamburgh ; and the Lutherans, uniting
with the Catholics in their opposition to this sect, it was
entirely dispersed. Brand : Hist: Reform. Belgica.
Dupin. Mosheim.
Becket, Thomas a, was born in London, according to
Fleury, in HIT, or, according to Dupin, in 1119. His
father was Gilbert, one of the principal merchants of
London ; his mother was Matilda, a Saracen, with whom
his father had become acquainted, when, having joined
the crusade, he had been made a prisoner in Palestine.
She was a convert and a devoted Christian, who paid
much attention to the religious training of her son. On
the death of his mother, he was placed by his father under
the care of the canons of Merton, and afterwards con-
tinued his studies in the schools of the metropolis, of
BECKET. 131
Oxford, and of Paris. When his father died, he was
admitted into the family of Theobald, archbishop of
Canterbury, and conducted himself so well, that he
easily obtained permission of his patron to leave England,
that he might improve himself in the knowledge of the
civil and canon law. He studied at Bologna, and at
Auxerre, having, in the first named university, Gratian
for his instructor. On his return to England, he found
some difficulty in maintaining his position in the arch-
bishop's household, as Roger de Ponte Episcopi (Bishop 's-
bridge) a learned man, who was successively archdeacon
of Canterbury and archbishop of York, had established an
influence there, which was exerted against Becket, whose
genius, however, surmounted every obstacle. Having
received as his first preferment the church of Branfield,
he soon after obtained prebends in the churches of
Lincoln and St Paul's ; he was collated also to the
provostship of Beverley, and on the elevation of Pioger to
the see of York, he succeeded him in the archdeaconry of
Canterbury, a preferment equal at that time to a bishopric
in point of emolument, and scarcely inferior in the rank
and influence it conferred upon its possessor. Becket was
at this time only in deacon's orders ; but no law at that
time existed to prevent deacons from holding such high
offices in our venerable establishment, the duty of a
prebendary and of an archdeacon being rather to see that
the services of the church are duly performed, than to
conduct them : it is the office of superintendent, who is
to report irregularities to the bishop.
On the removal of Pioger from the archbishop's
Jiousehold, Becket became, young as he was, the con-
fidential adviser of that prelate, and to his influence
the public attributed the firm adhesion of Theobald to
the cause of Matilda and Henry. This, doubtless, inclined
Henry, when he ascended the throne, in 1154, to listen to
the archbishop the more readily, when he recommended
Becket to his notice ; and the splendid genius, together
with the courtly manners of the archdeacon, soon con-
132 BECKET.
ciliated the royal friendship. Becket was raised to the
high dignity of chancellor, and was admitted to the fullest
confidence of the king, who felt for him as a personal
friend. In a subordinate situation Becket always identified
his own interests with that of his patrou, and devoted
himself to his service, and the affection he evinced to his
employer was returned to himself. This disposition is
often found to exist in those who, when removed from a
subordinate situation, are sturdy maintainers of their own
privileges, and expect from others the homage they have
themselves been accustomed to pay.
The chancellor was appointed preceptor to the young
prince and warden of the tower of London ; he received
the custody of the castle of Berkhampstead, and the honor
of Eye with the services of one hundred and forty knights.
The pride of Henry was gratified with the ascendancy of
his favourite, with whom he lived on terms of familiarity ;
and the chancellor, who is described as remarkably hand-
some, tall, but somewhat slight, and of a florid complexion,
adorned the court as well by the elegance of his deportment
as by the splendour of his talents. His equipage displayed
the magnificence of a prince, and his table was open to
every person who had business at court; a thousand
knights were among his vassals, and every detail of his
establishment indicated at once his splendour and good
taste. He virtually governed the kingdom through the
king. To him has been attributed every useful measure
which distinguished the commencement of Henry's reign ;
he banished the foreign banditti with whom Stephen had
filled the land, he caused the ecclesiastical patronage to be
honestly and judiciously exercised, without simony; and in
the foreign department, by his successful negociations with
the French king, he obtained for his master the cession of
Gisors and five other important places. Various other
important services he rendered to Henry and his country,
for an account of which the reader is referred to the
history of England. But one anecdote may here be men-
tioned, to shew the skill and tact with which he managed
BECKET. 132
the impetuous temper of Henry. The bishop of Le Mans
had given offence to the king by accepting Alexander III
as pope without permission. The king in his rage ordered
the bishop's house to be destroyed, and couriers for that
purpose were dispatched, but before their departure the
chancellor directed them to be four days on the road,
though the ordinary rate of travelling w^ould have brought
them to Le Mans in two. The next day, and the day
after, he set the bishops and others to importune the
king, and the third day he joined them himself; the king,
supposing by this time that the episcopal palace must
have been nearly destroyed-, at last yielded to their entrea-
ties, and the chancellor got him to sign letters to that
effect, and sent them off by a private messenger, who rode
night and day, and arrived just after the king's courier, in
time to save the palace.
Becket wTas aware that he could not hope to influence
the king and his warlike nobles, unless he proved him-
self to be as brave in the field as he was wise in
council. We hear, at the present time, of dignitaries
in the Church who are seen to partake of the fashion-
able amusements of a London life, and wTho justify
themselves, and are justified by others, though censured
by those whom they call "righteous overmuch," on the
ground that by sharing in the amusements of the great
and wealthy, they exercise a useful control over society.
The apology is sufficient so far as it goes, that is, so far as
this, and not his own amusement, is the real object of the
individual so acting. But if the apology is sufficient for
the prelate in this day, wTho attends or presides at the
splendid and fashionable banquet, it is an apology which
must be admitted in the case of the deacon Becket,
when, with the same object in view, he placed himself at
the head of 700 knights, and attended Henry in 1159,
in the prosecution of his claims to Toulouse in the right
of Eleanor, his queen : here he acted the part, not only
of an able military commander, but also of an accomplished
VOL. II. M
134 BECKET.
man-at-arms ; for on one occasion he tilted with a French
knight, whose horse he bore off as an honourable proof of
his victory. On the same principle he became a judge of
hawks and horses, and he must be pardoned, if, when he
became a soldier and a sportsman, he occasionally entered
too keenly into the chase, and forgot his ecclesiastical
position in the enthusiasm of a warrior. He could be
nothing by halves.
That Becket thus acted is true, and it is true that by so
doing he shocked, and justly, the feelings of the more
religious among his contemporaries ; but that in throwing
himself thus into the court and camp he acted, whether
mistakingly or not, on the principle just adverted to, is
apparent, from the fact that though he appeared to others
to have forgotten his ecclesiastical character, it was never
forgotten by himself. That his conduct had always defied
the reproach of immorality, when living even in the
atmosphere of an immoral court, and in intimacy with a
king who attempted to corrupt him, was confidently
asserted by his friends, and, as has been well observed, is
equivalently acknowledged by the silence of his enemies.
In private he resorted to the modes of self-discipline then
customary: the chancellor was at one time discovered
sleeping not on his bed, but on the bare boards exposed
to the cold; and, according to Fitz-Stephen, "in the midst
of his secular greatness and splendour, he used often to
receive on his naked back the secret discipline of the
scourge." By the same contemporary historian we are
told,* that "amidst all the luxury of the court he preserved
such perfect moderation that his rich table ever supplied
a rich alms. I have heard from Robert, his confessor, the
venerable canon of Merton, that while chancellor he never
let luxury pollute him, though the king put snares in his
way day and night." The indignation which he shewed
at an act of profligacy in one of his suite is sufficient to
shew that he feared no retaliation.
The splendour of his equipage may be accounted for
BECKET. 135
as a necessary act of policy in that age, when external
circumstances had much more weight than at present;
although even now simplicity in the great is considered
mean and offensive by vulgar minds. The effect which
he intended to produce by his outward splendour may be
gathered from the effect which upon one occasion it did
produce. When he was sent by Henry to the court of
France, to negociate with Louis, who had threatened to
oppose the pretensions of the king to the earldom of
Nantes, Becket, we are told, not only succeeded in his
mission, but excited, by his magnificence and bearing, so
much admiration, that the people exclaimed, " What
manner of man must the king of England be, when his
chancellor travels in such state.*' When such was the
impression made by external magnificence, we must admit
the wisdom and the sound policy of its assumption on the
part of the chancellor.
Such was Thomas a Becket, lord high chancellor of
England, a man endeavouring to serve two masters ; or,
perhaps, seeking to do his duty to the Church, in a secular
employment, and thinking to advance the cause of God,
not by simplicity of conduct and prayer, but by the arts of
the politician. But the chancellor was soon to attain a
higher office, and with it to present to the eye of the world
an altered character. His first patron, Theobald, died,
and the see of Canterbury became vacant. For thirteen
months the politic Henry kept the see vacant, that the
revenues might be paid into his exchequer. At the end
of that time, when he could no longer with decency
appropriate the revenues of the see, he sent for the chan-
cellor at Falaise, and bade him prepare for a voyage to
England, adding, that within a few days he would be
archbishop of Canterbury. Henry had mistaken Becket's
character. He regarded him as a mere worldling, who,
provided his selfish interests were secured, would bind the
English church to the will of the monarch. He had seen
how the chancellor had controlled the lay nobility, and he
expected him to exercise the same control over the Church
136 BECKET.
of England, and to render it subservient to his purposes.
But, as we have seen, Becket was of that high class of
mind, which, identifying itself with a cause, without
rejecting the incidental advantages which niay accrue to
it, would willingly for that cause sacrifice self and every
selfish interest. He knew himself and Henry, and he
forewarned the king of what would be the consequence of
his accepting the present offer ; of the offence likely to be
taken at the sudden elevation of one who had lived neither
as a self-denying monk nor as a hard-working parish
priest, but as a worldly-minded archdeacon, in a court not
proverbial for its strictness. Pointing to his dress, he
remarked with a smile, that he had not much the appear-
ance of an archbishop ; and with that tenderness, which,
notwithstanding the vehemence of his temper when pro-
voked, was characteristic of his disposition, he alluded to
the almost inevitable disruption of the friendship between
himself and his royal master. As chancellor he might
influence the royal mind to good, when measures against
the Church were designed ; it would be his duty to
remonstrate, not to oppose him ; but as archbishop he
would have, he foresaw, openly to oppose one who could
brook no opposition. " I know of a surety," he said,
according to the statement of Hubert de Bascham, " that
if by God's providence this should happen, you will soon
take your heart from me, and the friendship which is now
so strong between us, will be converted into the most
furious hatred. I am aware that you are going to proceed
to some exactions, and that you already invade the Church's
rights in a manner I cannot tolerate ; and thus envious
persons will go between us, and extinguish our attach-
ment." From this it seems probable that he had already
restrained the king in his designs against the Church,
although, it may be, he did not always succeed in his
attempt to do so.
Thomas a Becket at last acquiesced, contrary to his
own judgment ; the entreaties of cardinal Henry of Pisa,
being added to the commands of the king, he sailed for
BECKET. -137
England. He was elected by the prelates, and a deputa-
tion of the chapter of Canterbury, assembled at West-
minster ; every vote was given in his favour ; the applause
of the nobility testified their satisfaction, and prince
Henry, in the name of his father, gave the royal assent.
He was ordained priest on Trinity Sunday, 1162, by the
bishop of Rochester, and on the following day was con-
secrated by Henry, bishop of Winchester, assisted by
thirteen of his episcopal brethren. Gilbert Foliot alone,
then bishop of Hereford, and afterwards bishop of London,
jeeringly observed, that the king had at last wrought a
miracle, for he had changed a soldier into a priest, a
layman into an archbishop. The advocates of Becket
have regarded this as the sarcasm of disappointed ambi-
tion ; but Foliot was a man of rigid morals, a devoted,
laborious, and learned clergyman ; and therefore, without
any ambition, he might fairly express his disgust at seeing
a mere man of the world, without one religious or profes-
sional recommendation, as Becket, at all events, appeared
to be, elevated to a post of the most sacred importance,
by worldly influence, and amidst the world's applause.
Foliot never appreciated properly the character of Becket,
and he retained his early and natural prejudices against
him to the last ; but by his contemporaries Foliot was
regarded as the holier man of the two.
The good taste of Becket, to say nothing of his religious
feelings, suggested an alteration in his establishment,
wrhen he removed to his episcopal palace ; but there
certainly did not take place that entire and sudden change
in his habits, which has been spoken of by some historians,
— and which even Lingard supposes to have occurred.
His dress and his retinue, as Mr Froude remarks, were
still remarkable for their magnificence, his table for its
almost fastidious delicacy, his companions for their rank
and intellectual accomplishments, his studies, for their
political and philosophical, rather than their religious
character ; and the only change discernible in his pursuits
M '2
138 BECKET.
and manner of living, was such as the change of his rank
and occupations would necessarily suggest to a refined
taste. Two years after his consecration, we find his firm
and tried friend, John of Salisbury, addressing to him the
following letter : a letter which shews that he considered
the archbishop to be very far from being a saiDt, though he
certainly regarded him as a religious man. It is indeed re-
markable how freely the companions and friends of Becket
addressed him when he became archbishop. They seem
to have looked upon him as one pre-eminently gifted,
advanced to a high station in the Church, anxious to do
his duty as a churchman, but often ignorant of what his
duty was, and requiring guidance in a position so little in
accordance with his previous habits. And he, conscious
of his deficiencies, receives with a meekness not natural to
him, and therefore the effect of divine grace, their friendly
but free-spoken admonitions. John of Salisbury addresses
the archbishop with the feelings of a paternal friend, who
regarded Becket as ready to take the right political line
with respect to the Church, but requiring direction as to
his personal conduct.
" My advice to your lordship," says this excellent man,
" and my earnest wish, and the sum of my entreaties, is
this ; that you commit yourself with your whole soul to
the Lord and to your prayers. It is written in the
Proverbs, ' the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the
righteous runneth into it, and is safe.' In the mean time,
to the best of your ability, put aside all other business ;
other things are important and necessary ; but what I
advise is still more important, because more necessary.
The laws and the canons may profit much, but not for us
under our present circumstances. Believe me, my lord,
' non haec ista sibi tempus spectacula poscunt.' These
things are better food for curiosity than for devotion.
Your lordship recollects how it is written : « Let the
priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between the
porch and the altar; and let them say, Spare thy people,
BECKET. 139
O Lord.' ■ I communed with my own heart,' saith the
Prophet, ' and made diligent search' — ' in the day of my
trouble I sought the Lord;' thus teaching us that to
cleanse and discipline the spirit is the way to ward off the
lash of conscience, and to obtain for us the loving mercies
of God.
" Who ever rose with a feeling of contrition from a
study of the laws or even of the canons ? The exercises
of the schools, too, are more likely to puff us up with the
pride of science, than to kindle within us any feeling of
devotion. I would far rather see your lordship's thoughts
employed upon the psalms, or on the sermons of the
blessed Gregory, than intent upon this philosophy of the
schools. Far better were it to confer on serious subjects
with some spiritual person, and to warm your feelings by
his example, than to dwell upon and discuss the subtle
controversies of secular literature.
"God knows the sincerity with which I speak this —
your lordship will receive it as seems good to you. Yet
be assured that if you do these things, God will be on
your side, and you need not fear what flesh can do unto
you. He knows that in our present troubles, we have no
mortal arm to depend upon."
There were two parties at this time in the church of
England ; a deeply religious party, at the head of which
was Gilbert Foliot, bishop of London, and a party which
looked at the Church rather in its political than its
religious bearing, at the head of which Becket now placed
himself. In the latter party there were men of earnest
piety, but their opponents, by representing them as mere
men of the world, endeavoured to undermine their in-
fluence. We know that it was thus that Becket was
represented to the empress Matilda : she was made to
believe that, " from the time of his consecration, the
persons he had kept about him were men distinguished
rather for rank and talent than for religion ; and that in
disposing of his benefices, he looked rather to his own
140 BECKET.
service than God's ; promoting men of notoriously low
character."
He commenced his duties with his accustomed energy
of character. In the spring of 1163 he attended the
council of Tours, with several of his suffragans, and there
he was received with marked attention : fifteen cardinals,
with all the bishops who had arrived before him, went out
to meet the primate of the church of England ; and when
the council opened, he took his place with his suffragans,
at the right hand of the pope. At this time there was a
schism in the papacy, Alexander III being acknowledged
by the kings of England and France, and his rival Octa-
vian, under the name of Victor IV. being received by the
emperor. The council was convened, among other things,
to confirm the election of Alexander, who had, at his
election, the votes of seventeen cardinals, his rival having
only three votes.
On the archbishop's return to England, he began to
exert himself with great vigour, in defence of the rights
and privileges of the church of Canterbury ; for, besides
prosecuting at law several of the nobility and others, for
lands alienated from the see, during the civil disturbances
of the last reign, he claimed from the king himself the
castle of Rochester, and the honours of Hythe and Sand-
gate, which, he said, belonged peculiarly to the see of
Canterbury. He moreover summoned Roger de Clare, to
do him homage for the castle of Tunbridge, and sent a
similar citation to William de Ross. Many more applica-
tions of a like nature were made. The general answer
was, that they held under the king, and owned no other
lord. There is little doubt that the claims were just, but
the nobility were alarmed, and the king was irritated.
Although during the first twelve months after his
consecration, the archbishop appeared to enjoy his wonted
ascendancy over Henry, his enemies were many, and not
inactive in insinuating suspicions of his conduct and
designs into the irritable mind of the king. Becket, as
BECKET. 141
we have observed before, must have felt that although as
chancellor he might either restrain the king, or else, as a
friend, share in the odium, if, in spite of his attempt to
restrain him, Henry persevered in an act of injustice, he
could not act thus as archbishop : the archbishop would
have to oppose each act of injustice, and if the act was
persevered in, to let the world see that it was not con-
nived at by him. He now therefore resigned the chan-
cellorship. Henry remembered the warning which Becket
had given him, and understood the resignation to mean
that his interests might clash with those of the Church,
in which case he was not to depend on the arch-
bishop's support, and his angry feelings were excited.
When Becket, after his resignation, first met the king, on
his landing at Southampton, to quell the disturbances in
Wales, it was remarked, that although they embraced, the
eyes of the king were turned from him, and there was an
evident coldness and restraint in his manner. As a fair
act of retaliation, the king compelled the archbishop to re-
sign the rich archdeaconry of Canterbury, which Becket had
still retained, and which he certainly ought to have vacated
before. It is said that the archbishop retained the arch-
deaconry to prevent its being conferred on Geoffrey de
Biddel, an unworthy person ; but when he was claiming
all the rights of his see, the king was justified in prevent-
ing him from assuming more than was his due, and from
holding the rich archdeaconry in commendam.
The hearts of the two friends were thus in fact alienated
before that controversy commenced, which only terminated
in the death of Becket. That which brought them into
immediate collision, was a controversy relating to the
jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts.
The Church is an imperium in itself, governed under
its Divine Head, by officers of its own, independent of all
civil authorities. Such an institution must be viewed with
suspicion and jealousy by the government of any country
in which it is planted, an imperium in imperio. The
provincial governors, under the first emperors of Rome,
U3 BECKET.
were perplexed and annoyed at finding in every city
and province the Christian Church or the kingdom
of Christ existing, with regularly constituted officers,
holding concurrent jurisdiction with themselves, and con-
vening provincial councils, in which laws were enacted
without regard or reference to the civil authorities. The
fear of excommunication from this spiritual kingdom was
stronger than the fear of death. It is true that the people
were instructed never to resist by force the government of
the country, or the laws of the land : but then there was a
passive resistance, which was more provoking. If a law
pronounced by the Church or spiritual kingdom to be
sinful, such as the worship of idols, were enforced, the
people were instructed, not indeed to rise up in rebellion
against the iniquitous law, but meekly to submit to the
penalty for transgressing it, whether that were the spoiling
of goods or the loss of life ; and by this mode of resistance,
every persecution was perceived to add to the Church's
strength. Wherever there was a Roman governor there
was a bishop of the Church ; and if the commands of the
one and the injunctions of the other were not coincident,
the spiritual ruler, not the temporal, was obeyed, and the
latter found bonds, imprisonment and death, to have no
terrors. The imperial government, in consequence of
this state of things, gradually ceased to persecute, and
perceived the policy of allying itself as closely as possible
with this new kingdom upon earth, this fifth empire.
But the Church, strong in the affections of the common
people, was, in this alliance, the more powerful body of
the two, and the alliance was formed, not by bending the
canons of the Church to the laws of the heathen empire,
but by giving an ecclesiastical tone and character to the
imperial laws. In the laws of the Roman empire, the
power of the Church is perceived.
But as time has gone on, the position of the two socie-
ties has been materially changed. The Church has now
become the weaker body ; the state has, in every country,
and especially in England, obtained such power that it
BECKET. 143
has tyrannized over the Church, and to the laws of the land
the ecclesiastical canons have given place. As the time
of Anti-christ draws nearer we must expect the alienation
of the state from the Church to increase ; perhaps persecu-
tion will partially revive ; we know that when Anti-christ
himself comes, persecution will be carried on so effect-
ually, that the Church will be reduced to the lowest
condition, in point both of influence and members. In
the person of Anti-christ the state will triumph over the
Church.
When such is our view of the destiny, as well as the
history, of the Church, the struggle of Henry and Becket
assumes a peculiar degree of interest, since it was the
commencement of this straggle between the Church and
the state. The relative position of the two bodies, which
had so long acted together, and had almost become blended,
was now imperceptibly changed. The king and the arch-
bishop felt the change, but could not account for it. It
was a change in the minds of men. Men had become
discontented with the circumstances under which they
were placed. In yielding to his own impetuous temper,
Henry was, in fact, struggling to render the outward
circumstances of his kingdom accordant with the changing
tone of men's minds ; and in defending his own rights,
and the authority of the Church, Becket resisted innova-
tions, the end of which it was impossible to foresee.
With Henry we find that those proud statesmen, who feel
that the Church is the great impediment to the march of
liberalism, entirely sympathize. Becket has not been
able to command the sympathies of Englishmen, because,
while we can applaud his noble defence of the Church's
liberties against the aggressors of the state, we perceive
that he was, through ignorance of the real state of the case,
prepared to sacrifice those liberties to the court of Rome.
If he asserted his independence as archbishop of Canter-
bury against the king, we observe that he did not maintain
his independence as a primate of all England against the
144 BECKET.
pope, but in his own person brought our church under the
papal control. By the church of Rome he has been canon-
ized : we may express astonishment at rinding Thomas a
Becket regarded as a saint, a character in which he did
not appear in the eyes of his contemporary partizans and
admirers ; we may protest against his canonization for the
mere fact of his having been murdered after conducting a
struggle with the king, always with firmness and skill, but
not always in a saintly temper. It is indeed admitted by an
apologist for Thomas a Becket, the late Mr Froude, that
the ardour with which he devoted himself to his noble enter-
prise, was not altogether such as to consist with the very
highest frame of mind ; there was an eagerness about it ;
a fiery zeal ; a spirit of chivalry which excluded that calm
unruffled quiescence which is the prerogative of faith — that
entire indifference of consequences, which reason points
out as the proper frame of mind for those who fight under
the banner of the Invincible, who know that whether their
efforts succeed or fail, His will is alike done. But if we
may differ from the church of Rome in refusing to look
upon Thomas a Becket as a saint, the truth of history
obliges us to regard him as a great and good, though not a
faultless, character ; as one who resolutely maintained a
principle, and under difficult circumstances acted with
consistency and an humble trust in Divine Providence, and
who, as his troubles increased and his prospect of success
diminished, became a better and a holier man.
In the early part of the controversy, the consistency of
Becket was, indeed, less apparent than in his management
of it at a later period. Like many men of strong and
determined character, his temper was kind and affectionate,
and before he had confidence in himself, he was open to
friendly influences, and in one or two instances yielded on
points, where by yielding he offered an advantage to his
opponents.
When the Church, according to the statement made
above, was independent of the state, Christians were ex-
BECKET. 145
horted, on scriptural principles, to settle their differences
by submission to the decision of their bishops or of persons
delegated by them, and not to go to law with one another
before the profane courts. This was the case during the
three first centuries. When the empire, by becoming
Christian, allied itself with the Church, it was obliged as
the weaker body, to respect the laws of the Church; and
the decisions of the bishops in their respective dioceses
had the effect of law, though it was left to the option of
the people to have their causes tried either in the imperial
or in the ecclesiastical court. But as the influence of the
Church over the state increased, the privilege, if it were so
esteemed, as to choosing the court in which they should be
tried, was withdrawn from the clergy, and every cleric
was amenable only to the ecclesiastical tribunal. There
was a distinction drawn at first between ecclesiastical and
civil offences, but long before the time of which we are
speaking ; a clerical offender could only be cited before a
spiritual judge.
For a time this arrangement worked well : a person in-
jured by a cleric obtained redress, and the Church was not
scandalized by an exposure of the irregularities of those
who had been devoted to the offices of religion. But the
court Christian could not condemn any one to death,
while sentence of death was pronounced upon offenders
for comparatively trivial faults, by the civil judges. So
long as excommunication was considered worse than death,
the terrors of the spiritual court were equal to those of the
civil tribunal. But religion was beginning to grow cold,
and though excommunication subjected the penitent to
the most awful civil penalties, there was always a feeling
that he might be absolved, and people began to com-
plain that equal measure of punishment was not dealt
to the lay and the clerical offender. Flagellation, fines,
imprisonment and degradation, subjecting the offender for
the next offence to the sentence of the civil court, were
the modes of punishment resorted to in the •' Courts
146 BECKET
Christian :" and solitary confinement in the cell of a
convent, with inadequate food for life, was considered by
the ecclesiastical judges a severe sentence ; but such was
not the prevalent feeling among those who upheld the
royal courts.
By the two courts not only criminal but civil causes
were tried ; and the ecclesiastical courts being conducted
by men of superior education and learning, and being
guided by the fixed and invariable principles of the civil
and canon law, while the decisions in the king's courts
depended upon precedents and written traditions, it was
natural for men to draw into the ecclesiastical courts every
cause which could by legal ingenuity be connected with
the canons of the Church. So that between the two
judicatures a rivalry existed, in which the king and his
nobles felt a personal interest, as they obtained a principal"
share of the fees, fines and forfeitures, of the courts with
which they were connected.
There was then on both sides much professional
jealousy among the advocates of the respective courts;
the bishops and dignitaries of the establishment were
interested on the one side, the king and his nobles on the
other ; and though the people were on the side of the
Church, as in the Church only they found protection and
sympathy, yet the reference to the comparative impunity
of the clergy in criminal cases gave some strength to the
royal cause. In criminal cases indeed, as well as in civil,
the powers of the ecclesiastical court had extended to
every individual who had been admitted to the ton-
sure, (such persons as corresponded with our sextons,
parish clerks, &c.) whether he afterwards received holy
orders or not. But this extension of the ecclesiastical
courts was the cause of their weakness in this contro-
versy, for the number of offences was increased, and the
difference in the mode of punishment more marked and
offensive.
The king had another point on his side. Although the
BECKET. 147
spiritual courts in all the continental countries had a
separate jurisdiction, it had not been so among the Anglo-
Saxons : the limits of the two judicatures, the civil and
ecclesiastical, had been among them intermixed and un-
defined. The bishop was accustomed to sit with the
sheriff in the county court, and although even among
them, the bishop was the sole judge of the clergy in
criminal cases, and alone decided their differences, yet in
many ways his ecclesiastical became blended with his secu-
lar jurisdiction, and causes which had in other countries
been reserved to the spiritual judge, were decided in Eng-
land before a mixed tribunal. This state of things was
altered by William the Conqueror, who separated the two
jurisdictions, and established ecclesiastical courts in every
diocese, under the bishop and his archdeacons.
The reader will now see why Henry insisted so vehe-
mently on the return to the " customs" or " usages" of
the land, when making his attack on the ecclesiastical
courts. He was, in all things relating to his feudal rights,
prepared to follow the conqueror ; but he sought to over-
throw this part of his system, and under pretence of
referring to the old customs, to enlist on his side the
feelings of the Anglo-Saxons, although his real object was
the destruction of the present state of things, not the
restoration of the Church to its former position.
It will have been seen that the weak point in the case
of the spiritual courts, related to their ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, and on this point Henry determined to attack
them. There had been some gross cases of clerical delin-
quency, to which public attention was called, and by
which the king had been violently irritated, as he conceived
that sufficient punishment had not been awarded to the
offenders. He summoned a council of bishops at West-
minster, and required their consent that for the future,
whenever a cleric should be degraded for a public crime,
by the sentence of a spiritual judge, he should immedi-
ately be delivered into the custody of a lay officer, to be
punished by the sentence of a lay tribunal. The following
148 BECKET.
is the account of the proceedings of this council, given by
a contemporary historian :
" Concerning the origin of the misunderstanding be-
tween his lordship the archbishop of Canterbury and his
lordship the king —
"Henry, king of England, duke of Normandy and
Aquitain, and count of Anjou, came to London on the first
day of October, in the year of the Incarnate Word, 1163,
and with him Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, Roger,
archbishop of York, and their lordships the other bishops
of England.
" This assembly met solely or principally to recognize
the claims of the metropolitan of Canterbury to the
primacy of all England. Nor was any opposition raised
except on the part of the archbishop of York.
" When this was settled, the king of England laid
before their lordships, the bishops, certain harsh proposals
for which no oue was prepared. In the first place he
complained of iniquitous conduct on the part of the arch-
deacons, who, as he said, made a profit of other men's
misconduct, by exacting, in lieu of the accustomed penance,
sums of money, which they appropriated to their own use,
and declared his pleasure that for the future no arch-
deacon should cite any offender, however notorious, without
the consent of the civil magistrate. Then, proceeding to
another point, he stated his anxiety to devise some means
for the better preservation of peace and good order in his
kingdom, and his regret at hearing instances of disorderly
conduct among the clergy, several of whom were known to
have been guilty of theft, rapine, and even murder.
" ' It is my request, therefore,' said he, * that you, my
lord of Canterbury, and your brother bishops, in cases
like these, should degrade the criminal from his orders,
and then deliver him up to my courts of justice for cor-
poral punishment. It is also my will and request that on
these occasions you should allow the presence of a crown
officer, to prevent the escape of the criminal after his
degradation.' "
BECKET 149
" His lordship of Canterbury wished to defer his answer
till the following day ; but when this was denied, he
retired with the other bishops, and the following discussion
ensued :
" The bishops mentioned that the world must obey the
world's laws, — that degraded clergymen (clerics) must be
given up to the civil magistrate, and suffer corporal
punishment as well as spiritual ; nor could they see the
injustice of thus doubly punishing persons who, as they
enjoyed higher privileges than other men, when they
abused these were doubly guilty. Nor was this only the
world's law : the infliction of corporal punishment in such
cases was sanctioned by Scripture itself, which sentenced
offending Levites to mutilation or even death.
" On the other hand, his lordship of Canterbury asserted
that to visit a single offence with double punishment was
alike unjust and uncanonical ; — that Scripture did not
afford a precedent for it ; and that since the sentence
pronounced in the first instance by the Church must either
be just or unjust, unless the bishops would condemn
themselves by calling it unjust, they could not admit an
additional sentence to be just.
" 'Moreover,' he added, 'we must be on our guard
against lending ourselves to any designs upon the liberty
of the Church ; for which, according to the example of our
great High Priest, we are bound by our office to contend
even unto death. But ye have not yet resisted unto
death.'
" The bishops answered, that by sacrificing the liberty
of the Church they in no way compromised the Church
itself. 'Indeed,' said they, ' such a course would rather
tend to strengthen it. An obstinate resistance on our
part can end in nothing but our own ruin : whereas, by
giving way to the king in this point we may retain our
inheritance in God's sanctuary, and repose in the peace-
able possession of our churches. We are placed in diffi-
cult circumstances, and the temper of the times requires
of us large concessions.'
8 N
150 BECKET.
" On this his lordship of Canterbury, being very zealous
for the house of God, spoke as follows :
" 'I see, my lords, that you disguise to yourselves your
cowardice under the name of patience, and that on this
pretext of concession the spouse of Christ is to be given
up to slavery. And who hath bewitched you, ye insen-
sate prelates? Why would ye mask palpable iniquity
under this virtuous name, concession ? Why do ye call
that concession, which is, in fact, abandonment of the
church of Christ ? Words, my lords, should be the signs
of things, not their disguises.
" ' But,' say your lordships, ' we must make concessions
to the temper of the times.' Granted; but not vicious
concessions to vicious temper.
" ' My lords, the cause of God is not so ill supported,
as to require your fall that it may stand. Nor is the Most
High at a loss for means to uphold his Church, though
unaided by the truckling policy of its governors. Truly
one would suppose that your lordships compassionated
our Lord Christ, as though he were of himself powerless
to defend His spouse, and stood in need of your ingenious
devices.
" ' Know, my lords, that this temper of the times is the
very thing which constitutes your trial. When is it, I
pray you, that a bishop is called on to expose himself to
danger? Think ye that it is in tranquil times, or in dis-
turbed ? Your lordships will surely blush to answer ' in
tranquil times.' Remember, therefore, that when the
Church is troubled, then it is that the shepherd of the
Church must expose himself. Think not, that if the
bishops of old times were called on to found the church
of Christ on their blood, we in these times are less called
on to shed ours in its defence.
" ' I, for my part, (God is my witness,) do not dare to
recede from that form of government which has been
handed down to us from those holy fathers.'
" These words of the archbishop were soon carried to
the kings ears ; and straightway you might see all the
BECKET. 151
pillars of the Church to tremble as reeds before the wind ;
nor did anything support them against the terrors with
which they were threatened except the firmness of his
lordship of Canterbury.
" When the king found that in this instance his will
was ineffectual, he immediately took different ground, and
merely put to them the question, whether it was their
intention to conform unreservedly to the usages of his
kingdom ? His lordship of Canterbury answered advi-
sedly, that he would conform to them without reserve as
far as they consisted with the privileges of his order. The
same question was then put to each singly, and the same
answer returned by all. The king insisted that they
should pledge themselves absolutely, without any excep-
tion in favour of their order. But his lordship of Canter-
bury refused to give further pledges, without authority
from the vicar of Christ.
" The king, therefore, was greatly troubled, and all
Jerusalem with him ; and, going forth in the vehemence
of his spirit, he departed at once from London, without
arranging any business or closing any account.
"On this you might perceive a murmuring among the
laity, — confusion among the clergy. The bishops, in
terror, followed after the king, fearing that before they
reached him they should hear of a confiscation of all their
goods, and soon after made an underhand arrangement
with him, in which all mention was dropped both of God
and their order. Indeed, so readily did they yield to his
request, that their consent seemed to have been given
even before it was asked, and those who had most influ-
ence seemed most willing to exert it against the Church.
"In the meantime the archbishop of Canterbury sat
apart by himself, looking to the right and to the left, but
there was no man that would know him. He sought
comfort among his brethren, but they had gone astray
backwards, and now they walked not with him. At length,
seeing the prosperity of the unrighteous, and the danger
that hung over himself, « One thing,' said he, ' I have
152 BECKET.
spoken, namely, that I will not conform to the usages of
this world where they interfere with the privileges of my
divine order. For this I have incurred the displeasure of
the king — for this I have been deserted by my brethren,
and have offended the whole world. But let the world
say yea or nay, never will I so covenant with mortal man
as to forget my covenant with God and my order. God
willing, be it far from me, that either the fear or love of
man should make me indifferent to God. If an angel
from heaven come to me and counsel me so, let him be
accursed.' "
The king soon perceived that it would be the part of
sound policy to form a party among the bishops, and to
create a misunderstanding between them and the primate.
He encouraged, therefore, the archbishop of York to insist
on bearing his crosier in the province of Canterbury, and
the bishop of London to refuse to profess canonical sub-
jection. Clarenbald, abbot elect of St Augustine's, Can-
terbury, had also withdrawn his monastery from the
archiepiscopal jurisdiction, and when Becket insisted on
his rights, these several parties appealed to the pope, and
their respective claims were supported at Sens, where the
pope then resided, with the king's money and influence.
The cardinals were gained over ; the pope was frightened :.
gloomy accounts arrived from John of Salisbury, from the
bishop of Poictiers, and from Becket's private messengers.
In short, the position of our church was at this time any
thing but satisfactory; nor even when we admit the
difficulties by which we are at present surrounded, by the
opposition of the state to all true religion, can we think
that our church was in better circumstances during the
middle ages. We may here, also, remark, as we have
done in former articles, how private interests and human
passions were permitted to interfere, so as to bring the
church of England more and more under the dominion of
the pope. Henry, though hating the papal court, would
submit to any concession, not interfering with his imme-
diate objects, to carry a point, and Becket and his friends,
BECKET. 153
though free in their remarks on the venality, selfishness,
and vrant of principle in the pope and his cardinals,
conceded principles which entirely subverted the indepen-
dence of the church of England.
Becket had early notice that he ought not to expect
support from the court of Rome, on which he vainly, and
as archbishop of Canterbury, improperly relied. " God,"
says the bishop of Poictiers, in a letter addressed to the
archbishop, " who has given you courage to begin, will
also give you constancy to persevere, if not with success,
yet with a consummation still more devoutly to be wished.
But as to human assistance, you will look in vain to the
court of Rome, for any support against the king." After
recounting the difficulties to which Becket was exposed,
the good bishop proceeds, " wherefore, my beloved father
and lord, in all that you resolve upon, you must look
solely to the will of God, and to the interests of that
church over which God has appointed you. This must be
your only consolation, your only hope." Becket's private
messenger, one Magister Henricus, writes to him thus :
" At Soissons, the king of France received myself and
my charge with evident pleasure, and at once despatched
the prior of St Mard of Soissons with letters to the pope.
The prior is a man of great weight and discretion, and
was charged with other matters respecting your lordship,
more important than the kiDg could trust his secretary to
write.
" On taking my leave, his majesty took my hand in his
own, and pledged himself, on the word of a king, that if
chance ever brought your lordship to his dominions, he
would receive you neither as a bishop nor an archbishop,
but as a brother sovereign. The count of Soissons too
assured me most solemnly, that he would consign to your
lordship's use the whole revenues of his earldom, and that
if I would return from Sens his way, he would send you a
letter to that effect.
" Having finished my business at Soissons I hastened
to court, in the prior s company, through the estates of
154 BECKET.
count Henry. The way was shortest, and my companion
was a guarantee for my safety. Two days before I had
access to the pope's presence, the prior delivered the king's
letters, and the commission with which he had been
entrusted by word of mouth.
" At length I was admitted. His holiness, on receiving
me, sighed deeply, and betrayed other signs of dejection.
He had already heard all that took place in the council, —
the persecution of the Church, your lordship's firmness,
which of the bishops stood by you, how he went out from
among you who was not of you, the sentence passed upon
the cleric ; indeed, every thing that had been done most
secretly was known, before my arrival, to the whole court,
and even talked of in the streets. A secret interview was
then granted to me, in which I laid before his holiness
the several heads of our memorial. He, on his part,
praised G od without ceasing for vouchsafing to his Church
such a shepherd. Indeed, the whole court loudly extols
in your lordship that courage in which itself is so
lamentably deficient. As for themselves, they are lost in
imbecility, and fear God less than men. They have just
heard of the capture of Radicofani, and in it of the pope's
uncle and nephews. Other castles too, belonging to the
fathers of certain cardinals, have surrendered to the
Germans. Besides this, John de Cumin has now been a
long time at the emperor's court, and count Henry absents
himself from the pope's presence, and no messenger has
of late arrived from the king of England, and other con-
curring events have so terrified them that there is no
prince whom they would now dare to offend, and least of
all the king of England ; nor would they, if they could,
raise a hand in defence of the Church which is now in
danger in all parts of the world. But of this enough.
" What has been the success of your lordship's peti-
tions you will doubtless hear from the prior, and from
the bishop of Poictiers, who, by the grace of God,
arrived here the day before myself, and has laboured
in your lordship's cause with most friendly zeal. His
BECKET. 155
holiness declines altogether to offend the king, and has
written to the archbishop of York in a tone rather horta-
tory than commanding. However, he will send over a
brother of the temple to mediate between your lordships
on the subject of the cross, and to settle any dispute that
may arise in the interim. In the mean time the arch-
bishop of York is not to carry the cross in your diocese ;
this we obtained by dint of perseverance. To the bishop
of London he has written in the same strain ; but the
only effect of the letter will be to make his pride insolent.
Indeed the pope feels this, and sends your lordship a copy
of the letter, that you may judge for yourself whether to
forward or retain it. As to the profession, his lordship of
Poictiers has debated it with the pope repeatedly, and we
have at last obtained a promise that if, on being demanded,
it is formally refused, then his holiness will extort if.
The bishop will explain this in his second letter: the
subscription will distinguish the second from the first.
In the matter of St Augustine's we can obtain nothing.
The pope asserts that he has himself seen grants of his
predecessors, which he cannot revoke, securing the privi-
leges now claimed by the convent.
" Lastly, on our requesting that his holiness would send
your lordship a summons to appear before him, he an-
swered with much apparent distress, ' God forbid ! rather
may I end my days than see him leave England on such
terms, and bereave his church at such a crisis.'
" May God preserve your lordship in all your ways.
At Clairvaux, Cisteaux, and Pontigni, by the pope's
request, prayer is made daily for yourself and your church.
May my lord inform me shortly how he fare, that my
spirit may be consoled in the day of its visitation."
In a similar strain wrote John of Salisbury, the arch-
bishop's constant friend : having informed him of what
was taking place at Paris, and then with reference to his
intended journey to Sens, the papal residence, he says :
"Yet what to do when I am there I scarcely see.
Many things make against you and few for you. Great
156 BECKET.
men will be arriving there — profuse in their presents,
against which Rome never was proof — backed not only by
their own power, but by that of a king, whom no one in
the court dares offend. Besides, they are protected by
grants from the church of Rome, which, in a cause like
this, neither regards bishop nor friend. In this very
cause, his holiness has from the first opposed us — and
ceases not to find fault with what was done for us by
Adrian, that friend of the church of Canterbury, whose
mother still lives among you, penancing herself with cold
and hunger.
" We then, humble and poor, and with no grants to
protect us, what shall we have but words to offer to these
Italians ? But they have well studied the lesson of their
poet, ' not to pay a price for promises."
" Your lordship writes, that, as a last step, if all other
resources fail us, I am to promise 200 marks. But our
adversaries, rather than lose their object, would pay down
300 or 400.
1 Nee si muneribus certes, concedet Iolas.'
"And, truly, I will answer for the Italians, that in
consideration of the love they bear his majesty, and of
their respect for his messengers, they will consent rather
to receive a great sum than to expect a small one.
" And yet in some respects they side with your lordship,
because you are troubled for the liberty of the Church ;
though here too the king's apologists and your lordship's
rivals endeavour to undermine your cause, attributing your
conduct rather to rashness than to spirit; and to back
their insinuations, they hold out hopes to the pope (venas
hujus susurri jam audiit auris mea) that he will be
invited to England, and that the coronation of the king's
son is delayed till the apostolical hand can consecrate him
— and your lordship must know the Italians have no
objection. There are some who already insult us with the
threat that his holiness will take possession of the church
of. Canterbury, and remove your lordship's candlestick.
BECKET. 157
However, I do not believe that as yet such a thought has
been conceived by his holiness, for I hear that he is really
grateful for your constancy.
" Yet one thing I am sure of, that when Lisieux is
come, there is nothing which he will hesitate to assert.
I know him well, and have tasted his wiles. As to the
abbot, who can doubt about him ?
11 1 have just learned from the bishop of Poictiers, that
he can obtain nothing for you against the abbot of St
Augustine's,' though he has laboured hard for it. I will
go, however, God willing, since your lordship commands
it, and will try what I can effect. If I fail, let it not be
imputed to me ; for as the poet has said —
' Ncm est in medico semper relevetur ut reger,
Interdum docta plus valet arte malum.' "
In the mean time, the pope had written Becket a
common-place letter, dated Sens, Oct. 26, 1163, in which
there is nothing worth notice except the concluding
advice, "that Becket should at once return to his diocese,
dismiss all his retinue except such as were absolutely
necessary, and then move rapidly from place to place."
He also wrote another letter to Gilbert, dated Sens,
November 9th; just such as Becket's messenger des-
cribes it — full of flattering expressions and gentle ad-
monitions.
When we add to all this, that the abbot of Eleemosyna
was, as he represented, sent to England from the pope to
press on Becket the inexpediency of persisting in a fruit-
less opposition, we cannot be surprised at hearing that the
archbishop was persuaded to go to the king at Woodstock,
where he made promise of obedience to the customs with-
out the obnoxious clause. By the king, of course, the
humbled primate was graciously received, and a council
was summoned to meet at Clarendon, to discuss the
differences between Church and state.
The council met at Clarendon on the 5th of January,
1164. The king gave proof of his intention to humble
VOL. II. o
158 BECKET.
the archbishop yet further, by appointing John of Oxford,
a man most obnoxious to the archbishop, to preside, who,
by his angry manner and threatening tone, chafed the
temper of Becket, and excited his suspicions. Henry
took his seat and called upon the bishops to fulfil their
promise. The primate was now roused and expressed a
design of receding from his engagement. At this Henry's
rage was extreme ; in the eyes of the council it bore the
appearance of phrenzy. He menaced banishment and
death. Those bishops who had not yet forsaken the
primate crowded around him and implored him to relent,
as his person, the safety of the clergy, and their own lives,
were at stake ; the door of the next apartment was thrown
open, and discovered a body of knights with their gar-
ments tucked up and their swords drawn Robert, earl
of Leicester, and Reginald, earl of Cornwall, came to him
and told him that the king had commanded them to use
force if he did not yield to the royal will ; " though the
event," they said, will, we know, " bring infamy on him
and on ourselves." Sacrificing his own judgment to their
entreaties, the primate relented ; he signified that he
would obey the king's will, and promised, " on the word of
truth, that he would observe the ancient customs of the
realm." The bishops made the same solemn promise.
But then came the question, What are the customs ? and
strange to say, they were unknown. It was so preposterous
to call upon the bishops to swear to observe customs, the
very nature of which was unknown, that a committee was
formed to draw them up, and at the suggestion of the
archbishop the court adjourned till the following day. The
meeting was resumed the next morning, and a list of
customs was prepared. They are now styled the con-
constitutions of Clarendon ; they are sixteen in number ;
it will not be necessary to state them at length, but the
following clauses are those which were most in controversy,
and which were afterwards selected by Becket for special
condemnation
BECKET. 159
1. " That no bishop may excommunicate any tenant of
the crown without the king's license.
2. " That no bishop may imprison any inhabitant of his
diocese for perjury, or breach of faith.
3. " That clerics shall be subjected to lay tribunals.
4. " That laics, whether the king or others, may inter-
fere in questions concerning tithes or presentations to
benefices.
5. "That appeals, for whatever causes, to the see of
Borne, shall not be lawful, except with permission from
the king, or his officers.
6. " That no archbishop, nor bishop, nor any other
dignitary, may attend a summons from the pope, without
the king's license."
The primate retired from this council an humbled and
defeated man. He does not appear to have recovered his
resolution immediately. On the first of March the pope
certainly had under his consideration a request from the
English clergy, to which Becket was a party, soliciting his
assent to the acts of Clarendon. When Henry's ambas-
sadors arrived at Sens to back this request, they found
that the pope was for once prepared to act with resolution.
Though on all former occasions he was afraid to support
the archbishop against the king, yet he was now unwilling
to take a decided part with the latter. Like other weak
men, the pope seems to have determined on steering a
middle course between the contending parties ; or rather
on observing a strict neutrality, and allowing events to
shape their course for themselves. But Becket had now
time and opportunity to discover that if he persevered in
his opposition to the king, he would not be without sup-
port : that it was only through fear and policy that the
pope and cardinals had refrained from declaring them-
selves in his favour. He felt himself degraded : and his
conscience reproached him for having acted contrary to
his own judgment, in deference to the wishes of others.
There were not wanting many among his friends to pity,
if not to reproach him, for his weakness. On the first of
160 BECKET.
April, it was known at Sens that he had suspended him-
self from all his clerical functions ; and on that day
Alexander wrote to him a letter of consolation and remon-
strance, assuring him that his fall had been a pardonable
one, and his penance unnecessarily severe. Soon after,
the pope sent the archbishop of Rouen to endeavour to
effect a reconciliation between the king and Becket. But
Henry would listen to no terms, unless the constitutions
of Clarendon were confirmed by a papal bull. This con-
dition being refused, Henry made a request that Roger,
archbishop of York, should be made the pope's legate for
all England: a direct attack upon the jurisdiction of
Becket, to which Alexander refused to lend himself;
though he showed his readiness to bend to circumstances
almost as much as the enemies of the Church could
desire, by offering to make the king himself his legate : an
offer which was rejected, because it was clogged with a
proviso that his highness should do nothing to the pre-
judice of the archbishop of Canterbury; but the offer
shews how ready the popes have been to sacrifice the
principles of the Church to notions of expediency. Pressed
beyond measure by the angry temper of the king; be-
friended with a cold and vacillating support from the
pope ; and deserted, day by day, by his former friends,
who preferred the favour of the court to the service of an
obnoxious prelate, Becket sought peace and safety in a
retreat to France ; but even the crew of the vessel in
which he sailed were not too obscure to trim their sails to
the prevailing breeze of court favour ; and they earned
the thanks of the king, by returning with the archbishop
before they had reached the opposite shore.
Henceforth the controversy assumes a new shape : the
ruin of one man occupied the mind of the powerful
sovereign ; and Becket regarded himself as representing
the independence of the Church, and as called upon to
exert all the energies of his mind in that cause.
The king's conduct towards Becket was as mean as it
was vindictive. He ceased from his attack upon the
BECKET. 161
Church to render more certain his attack upon the arch-
bishop. In the October of 1164 the primate was cited to
a great council in the town of Northampton, at which
John of Oxford presided, and the king was prepared to
prosecute his enemy, having decreed beforehand the
punishment of bodily mutilation to any who should not
bring in Becket as guilty of the charges he was about to
prefer. The king proceeded from small to the greater
charges, as by a climax. The nobles and prelates being
seated, he charged the archbishop with not having done
justice in his court of Canterbury, to John, the mareschal
of his exchequer, and with not appearing in the king's
court, when cited on the appeal of the said servant of the
crown. The archbishop satisfactorily explained the case,
and declared that his non-appearance when cited was no
act of contempt, but occasioned by illness, and that two of
his knights had waited on the court with his apology. Be-
gardless of every plea, the king swore with an intemperate
fury, that judgment should pass and justice be done
him. The obsequious court yielded to the royal will, and
condemned Becket as guilty of contumacy, for having
disobeyed his liege lord, to whom he had sworn fealty
and the observance of his earthly honour, and they decreed
all his goods and chattels to be at the " mercy of the
king :" a legal expression, to denote the forfeiture of all
personal property, unless the king chose to accept a
smaller fine. Custom had in each county fixed the
amount of this fine : the customary fine in Kent was forty
shillings, but Becket was made to commute the penalty
for five hundred pounds, equal to more than seven thou-
sand pounds of our money. The readiness with which
Becket promised to pay the money and found sureties, as
if not condescending to dispute with his sovereign about
money, seems only to have exasperated the king. The
next morning the king required him to refund three
hundred pounds, which he had received as warden of
Eye and Berkhampstead : " more than that sum," an-
o3
162 BECKET.
swered the primate, " I expended on these castles and on
the royal castle at London, as the repairs themselves do
shew. But money shall be no ground oi quarrel between
me and my sovereign. I will pay the sum." And he
immediately gave security, thus in fact trampling over the
royal spite. Another demand was made, in the hope of
bringing the quarrel to bear on mere money transactions,
of five hundred pounds, received by the chancellor before
the walls of Toulouse. The archbishop asserted that the
money was given, not lent. But as Henry maintained
that it was a loan, the court decreed that repayment
should be made, on the principle, that the word of the
sovereign was preferable to the word of a subject ; the
king's English subjects not having arrived at the conclusion
of his foreign allies, that he was the greatest " liar ' in
Christendom. Thomas a Becket shewed by his manner
that he was not to be crushed or even irritated by such
paltry proceedings, but on the third day he did stand
aghast at hearing the king require an account of all the
receipts from the vacant abbeys and bishoprics which had
come into his hands during his chancellorship : and it
was sufficiently apparent that Henry would respect neither
law nor equity in his proceedings, when he estimated the
balance due to the crown at the enormous sum of forty- four
thousand marks. The archbishop declared that he was
not bound to answer, for that at his consecration both
prince Henry and the earl of Leicester, the justiciary, had
publicly released him from all similar claims. It matters
little whether Becket could have substantiated this asser-
tion, for his recent elevation to the see of Canterbury, with
the omission to place any such debts on record until it
become convenient to do so in order that the prelate, since
become obnoxious, might be crushed by their weight, was
a sufficient moral release. He asked for leisure to con-
sult with his fellow bishops. The request was complied
with, and he withdrew with the bishops into a separate
chamber.
BECKET. 163
It was evident that the king's intention in bringing the
last charge against the archbishop was to force him to a
resignation of his see. Indeed, so intricate and extensive
must have been the accounts he demanded, and so uncer-
tain the claim, that the reimbursement of any sum might
have been required. The revenues of the see of Canter-
bury were not equal to the discharge, and no sureties could
be found. The bishops, with the exception of Henry of
Winchester, advised a resignation. Besides the bishop of
Winchester, the bishops of London, Lincoln, Chichester,
and Exeter, addressed the archbishop ; the bishop of Wor-
cester excited a smile in the assembly, when, with pompous
self-complacency he said, " I wish to give no opinion ;
because should I say that the cure of souls ought to be
resigned when the prince wills it or threatens, I should
speak against my own conscience, and belie my heart. If
1 say the king should be opposed, there are those present
who are devoted to him who will make their report. I
shall be ranked in future with his enemies and be condem-
ned. Therefore I waive all decision, and give no advice."
The bishop of Worcester, though a weak and ignorant man,
was nevertheless not wanting in worldly cunning, and
Becket knew that he uttered what was felt by many around
him, though they possessed the prudence, which the bishop
of Worcester wanted, to conceal their feelings. He there-
fore asked for a respite till the morrow, as those to whom
his cause was best known were not with him, and his
request was granted.
The following day was Sunday, and the archbishop find-
ing that the knights and others who till now had attended
his person, came not near him, apprehensive of the fate
which threatened him, ordered the poor of the neighbour-
hood to be collected and seated at his table. " By these,"
he said " I shall obtain an easier victory, than by those
who have shamefully deserted me in the hour of danger."
But though nothing could intimidate him, the anxiety of
his mind was proved by an indisposition which confined
him to his chamber on the Monday. His spirit, however,
i 04 BECKET.
was roused by an intimation he received that if he appeared
in court his destruction or imprisonment was resolved
upon. On the Tuesday he rebuked the prelates who had
again exhorted him to submit without reserve to the king's
pleasure, and then proceeded to St Stephen's church,
where he solemnized the Holy Eucharist, which he felt to
be the most effectual support in the difficulties by which
he was surrounded : nor did he neglect the especial com-
fort of the service for the commemmoration of the proto-
martyr in which the passage occurs, "The princes sat and
spoke against me."
He had now determined to bring back the controversy
to its original state, a dispute between the king and the
Church, and therefore he attended the council arrayed in
his pontifical robes, and bearing in his hand the archi-
episcopal cross, thereby signifying that it was not in his
character as a subject, but in that of a prince of the
Church, that he appeared before the council. As the
king's object was to crush a subject, he was exasperated
beyond bounds when he heard that Becket was thus
approaching, and he retired with the barons into a neigh-
bouring chamber, where they were soon after joined by
the bishops. The king knew not how to proceed till some
of the bishops proposed to cite their primate before the
pope, and procure his deposition. The advice pleased
the king, and " the arrogant and frothy" bishop of Chi-
chester was commissioned to address the archbishop in
the name of his brethren : " You were our primate," said
he, " but by opposing the royal customs, you have broken
your oath of fealty to the king; a perjured archbishop
has no right to our obedience. From you, then, we
appeal to the pope, and summon you to answer us before
him." " I hear you," was the archbishop's reply.
His proud spirit would not condescend to notice the
attack further, but he was roused to speech, when the
bishops, having gone over to the opposite seats, the door
of the inner room opened, and the barons, with a great
crowd, headed by the earls of Leicester and Cornwall,
BECKET. 165
approached the primate, who was addressed by the earl of
Leicester : " The king orders that you appear before him
to answer to his charges, as you promised, or else hear
your sentence." "My sentence!" cried the primate,
rising from his seat : " Yes, sir earl, but do you hear
first ; — You well know, my son, with what friendship and
with what fidelity I served my lord the king. On that
account, it was his pleasure that I should be promoted to
the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury, God knows, against
my own will. For I knew my own incapacity ; and I
acquiesced, not so much for the love of God, as for his
love. This is sufficiently evident, since God to day
withdraws Himself and the king from me. At my elec-
tion, in the presence of prince Henry, who had received
orders from his royal father, it was asked, in what condi-
tion I was given to the Church ? when answer was made ;
free and discharged from every bond of the court. But if
free, I cannot now be bound to answer to those things,
from which I was then discharged ; nor will I." " Tins,"
observed the earl, " is different from what, the other day,
was reported to the king." The primate proceeded : " Still
listen, my son. As much as the soul is superior to the
body, by so much it is your duty to obey God and me,
rather than an earthly monarch. Neither law, nor reason
permits, that a child judge or condemn his parent.
Wherefore, I decline the tribunal of the king and his
barons, submitting myself, under God, to the judgment of
our lord the pope, to whom, in the presence of you all, I
now appeal. The church of Canterbury, my order and
dignity, with all that pertains to them, I commit to God
and the protection of the holy see. And you, my
brethren and fellow-bishops, who have preferred the
obedience of man to that of God, I cite you to the pre-
sence of our lord the pope. Thus guarded by the power
of the Catholic Church and the apostolic see, I retire
hence."
The solemn address was taken to the king ; and the
primate turned round to leave the hall. As he passed
166 BECKET
through the crowd he was insulted ; and some called out,
that he retired like a perjured traitor. Looking sternly
at the revilers, he said : " Did the sacredness of my
character permit it, I would by arms defend myself
against that charge of perjury and treason." The outer
gate was locked ; but one of his attendants perceived the
keys on the wall, and opening the door, they went out ;
and amidst the acclamations of the clergy and people,
congratulating him on his delivery, and a crowd of beggars,
he reached the convent where he lodged. In the evening,
the bishops of Worcester, Hereford, and Rochester, who
were attached to the primate, waited on the king, in his
name, requesting that he might be permitted to quit the
realm. " To-morrow, replied Henry, " I will lay his
request before the council." But at night-fall, two noble-
men, whose solemn asseverations could not be doubted,
informed the archbishop, that certain persons of high
rank had conspired against his life, who were mutually
pledged to perpetrate their design. This, it seems, deter-
mined him to attempt an immediate escape ; wherefore,
ordering a couch to be prepared in the church, as if he
meant to take sanctuary there, before midnight, attended
by two monks and a servant, he left the convent, and soon
afterwards the walls of Northampton, passing northward
through a gate which was left unguarded. It was Tues-
day, the 16th of October.
After fifteen days of peril and adventures, he landed at
Gravelines, in Flanders. His first visit was paid to the
king of France, who received him with marks of venera-
tion ; his next to pope Alexander, who kept his court in
the city of Sens.
To the pope, all parties in our Church, king, prelates,
and primate, had appealed ; all were doomed to discover,
that by thus going into Egypt for help, they trusted only
to a broken reed : but the damage which the church of
England received from such proceedings, was such as
rendered the reformation of the 16th century a matter
of necessity.
BECKET. 167
Before the arrival of the archbishop at Sens, the king's
ambassadors had appeared at the court of Alexander. The
cardinals were aware how much it was their interest not
to irritate so powerful and so rich a prince as Henry, and
they saw the difficulties in which, by shewing favor to the
primate, they would soon be involved. Already had part
of the rich gifts which the ambassadors bore, been spread
before them. The pope, though less inconsistent than the
cardinals, still acted a disgraceful part in the transaction.
As Mr Froude observes, " he neither insisted, as Becket
wished, on trying the cause in his own presence, and
summoning all parties from England ; nor, on the other
hand, consented to place Becket again at the disposal of
his enemies by ordering him to return to his see, and
by sending legates to decide the cause in Henry's
dominions."
At this refusal Henry took deep offence. As a first
step, he banished and proscribed all Becket's friends and
relations with their whole families — sparing neither sex
nor age — confiscating all their goods — and leaving them
to find subsistence as they could in the charity of the
continent. The list of proscriptions being swelled with
four hundred names, the misery which ensued needs
no description ; yet such was the popularity of Becket's
cause, that this secured an asylum for the greater number
of the exiles. Monasteries were cheerfully opened to the
men, nunneries to the women; many nobles offered large
contributions for their support — especially the king of
France, and Matilda, queen of Sicily. This, however,
could not last long — charity was fatigued, and generosity
blunted, in time ; and before the six years of Becket's
exile were concluded, hunger and cold had done its
work.
The arrival of Becket at Sens excited feelings of sym-
pathy and compasssion, especially when, through ignor-
ance of what became the primate of an independent
Church, as high in office and dignity as the bishop of
Rome, Becket offered to surrender his bishopric into the
168 BECKET.
hands of the latter prelate : some among the cardinals
regarded this as a ready way to decide the dispute, and
proposed that the resignation should be accepted ; but
Alexander, who was not void of generous feelings, refused
to abandon a prelate who had sacrificed the friendship of
a king for the good, as he supposed, of the Church, but
having previously condemned the ten constitutions of
Clarendon, recommended him to the care of the abbot of
Pontigny, and exhorted him to bear with resignation the
hardships of exile.
His residence at Pontigny was without doubt serviceable
to Becket's soul. He, who had been hitherto immersed
in politics or controversy, had now time for more profitable
studies. By his contemporaries he was not regarded as a
saint, — not even by those of his contemporaries who were
most enthusiastically devoted to his service. John of
Salisbury gives him the advice which we might expect
from a man of learning and piety.
"My advice then to your lordship, and my earnest wish,
and the sum of my entreaties is this, that you will commit
yourself with your whole soul to the Lord, and to your
prayers. It is written in the proverbs, ' The name of the
Lord is a strong tower, the righteous runneth unto it and
is safe. — xviii. 10. In the mean time, to the best of your
ability, put aside all other business : other things are indeed
important and necessary ; but what I advise is still more
important, because more necessary. The laws and the
canons may profit much, but not for us under our present
circumstances.
" Believe me, my lord,
' Non heec ista sibi temp us spectacula poscit.'
These tilings are better food for curiosity than for devotion.
Your lordship recollects how it is written, that, in the sor-
rows of the people, ' Let the priests, the ministers of the
Lord, weep between the porch and the altar ; and let them
say, Spare thy people, 0 Lord!1 ' I communed with my
own heart,' saith the .prophet, ' and my spirit made dili-
gent search.' 'In the day of my trouble I sought the
BECKET. 169
Lord.' Thus teaching us that to cleanse and discipline
our spirit is the way to ward off the lash of conscience, and
to obtain for us the loving mercies of God. Who ever
arose with a feeling of contrition from the study either of
the laws or even of the canons ? The exercises of the
schools, too, are more likely to puff us up with the pride
of science, than to kindle within us any feeling of devotion.
I would far rather see your lordship's thoughts employ-
ed upon the psalms, or on the sermons of the Blessed
Gregory, than intent upon this philosophy of the schools.
Far better were it to confer on serious subjects with some
spiritual person, and to warm your feelings by his exam-
ple, than to dwell upon and discuss the subtle controver-
sies of secular literature. God knows the sincerity with
which I speak this — your lordship will receive it as seems
good to you. Yet be assured that if you do these things
God will be on your side, and you need not fear what flesh
can do unto you. He knows that in our present troubles
we have no mortal arm to lean upon."
It was long before Thomas a Becket could adapt him-
self to his altered fortunes : we find his friend John of
Poictiers remonstrating with him on the unnecessary and
impolitic style of his living, and urging on him, at the same
time, the necessity of husbanding his resources, and of
conforming to the habits of the religious establishment in
which he was at that time living as an exile. " It will be
necessary," he says, " as far as one can judge from the
present aspect of your affairs, to husband your resources
in every possible way : to let your enemies see that you
are prepared for any sufferings to which your exile may
reduce you. For this reason I have often warned your
discretion, and must still earnestly press you to get rid of
your superfluous incumbrances, and to consider the bad-
ness of the times, which promises you neither a speedy
return nor a safe one. Your wisdom ought to know, that
no one will think the less of you, if, in conformity to your
circumstances, and in condescension to the religious house
vol ir. p
170 BECKET.
which entertains you, you content yourself with a mode-
rate establishment of horses and men, such as your neces-
sities require."
The archbishop had indeed from the beginning been
sensible of his insufficiency for the high office to which he
was called, but unlike the bishop of Worcester, to whom
reference has before been made, and who was complacent
in his ignorance, he endeavoured to prepare himself for
his duties, by securing the assistance of Hubert de
Boscham, to assist him in his theological reading. The
following is Hubert's own account, as given in the Quadri-
logue : " after early service he took a little sleep ; and
then, before any of the rest were up, he would set to
reading the sacred volume, with only one of his train by
him, to assist him in unfolding its mysteries. He
used to confess that the Scriptures were so deep and
obscure in many places, that he was always afraid of
falling into error, unless there was some one to direct him.
And therefore, while on plain passages he would trust to
what his own understanding told him, in the examination
of difficulties he always took me for his guide. Yes ; he
who had been so distinguished for deeds of prowess, and
who, both as archbishop and in other respects, had risen
to the very summit of excellence, yet trod the path of the
Scriptures with this humble simplicity ; never outstepping
his instructor, or presuming at all upon himself. Often
in 'our journeys would he turn his horse out of the main
road, and calling the same attendant to his side, discuss
theological subjects while travelling ; every now and then
repeating, ' How I wish I could retire a little from
secular business, and pursue these subjects quietly and at
my leisure.' "
"Without doubt," wrote John of Salisbury, in the
spring of 1166, " this exile has been of the greatest service
to my lord of Canterbury, both in regard to his literary
attainments and the" tone of his mind. I hope, too, it has
not been lost on myself." In the summer of the same
BECKET. 171
year, writing to another friend, he remarks : " concerning
the cause of my lord of Canterbury, I do not despair, for he
himself hath hope in the Lord, penancing himself for the
deeds he did as a courtier, nor as I think doth he make
flesh his arm." And again, in the autumn following,
"with regard to my lord of Canterbury, rest assured that
what he has gained in moral and intellectual graces, far
outweighs all that the king's malignity hath been able to
deprive him of."
It is pleasant in the midst of these controversies to read
of this growth in grace, and to find that Becket could
profit by the deep spirituality of his friends. And at the
same time nothing is more offensive than the conduct of
the pope, who always held out to him strong assurances of
support, and as often as he stood in need of it, deserted
him ; in the words of John of Salisbury, " he often
preferred might to right, and tolerated as a statesman
what he could never approve as a prelate :" the pope him-
self admitted that he could not risk the loss of Peter's
pence, by aiding Becket as he could wish : and the king
at one time did not hesitate to tell the bishop of Worcester
and the other bishops, that he had "his lordship the
pope and all the cardinals in his purse."
Henry knew how to play his game against the pope.
We have already stated that an anti-pope was in existence,
supported by the emperor Frederick Barbarossa, and at a
diet held at Wurtzburg, ambassadors from Henry had
appeared, among whom was the notorious John of Oxford.
How far the ambassadors implicated Henry in the schism
does not appear, but though they may have exceeded their
instructions, they were evidently sent to Wurtzburg to
alarm the pope, at a time when he seemed too much
inclined to favour the cause of Becket. And from a
correspondence between the pope and the bishops of the
church of England, it appears that the end designed by
the king was, to some extent, effected. But the undaunted
primate addressed to the king admonitory letters, at first
in a tone of deep respect and even of affection ; but after-
J 72 BECKET.
wards, with such expressions of warning as could not
be misinterpreted. Henry was alarmed by the tone of
these letters ; knowing the archbishop to be a man not of
words but of deeds, he perceived that unless he took the
necessary precautions, his kingdom would soon be under
an interdict, and himself excommunicated ; he held, there-
fore, a conference with his barons and confidential friends
at Chinon, in Touraine, when he behaved with extreme
petulence, and declared, with groans and tears, that his
barons were a pack of traitors, in not freeing him from a
man who "tore his soul and body from him." He was
rebuked with warmth, and yet gently, for his violence, by
the archbishop of Rouen, while the politic Arnulph, bishop
of Lisieux, suggested that the only measure which could
avert the impending sentence, was an appeal in the
name of the king to the pope. And Henry, who had
commenced this controversy, by reference to those ancient
customs of his kingdom, through which he desired to
suppress the right of appeal, had now in his own defence
recourse to it. Thus, on all sides, by king and prelates,
as passion or self-interest swayed, were the liberties of the
church of England sacrificed, and our venerable establish-
ment bound with fetters to the papal chair. The bishops
of Lisieux and Seez were despatched to notify the appeal
to the primate. But they found him not at Pontigny.
The apprehensions of the king were not unfounded :
before his messengers arrived at Pontigny, Becket had
gone to Soissons, and there underwent a process, marvel-
lous according to modern notions, and shewing that
although he had assumed the episcopal rule, he had not
laid aside his martial and chivalrous feeling. He seems
to have thought himself a spiritual champion, engaged in
a kind of duel with Henry, and had gone to Soissons, there,
as John of Salisbury expresses it, to gird himself against
the day of battle. Thither he went to commend himself
especially to St Drausius, to whom, as the said John of
Salisbury remarks, " men resort before a duel, and who,
according to the belief in France and Loraine, imparts the
BECKET. 173
certainty of victory to all who watch a night before his
shrine. " The Burgundians too, and even the Italians,"
he adds, "fly to him for succour before they hazard any
perilous eu counter. Here it was that Robert de Montfort
watched before his combat with Henry of Essex." It
ought to be observed that a duel was at this time one of
the legal modes of settling a dispute, and was conducted
strictly according to the forms of law. When two cham-
pions fought it was believed that God would defend the
right. But it is curious to find Becket giving in to this
superstition, not because we should expect him to be in
advance of the tradition of his age, but because it shews
the temper of his mind at the time. He was fighting, as
he supposed, like a knight, in defence of the Church, and
carried into the combat the generous ' and disinterested
feelings of true chivalry. This throws an interest into
his character ; but it is not the character of a saint,
such as the church of Rome does, and the church of
England does not, regard him.
Three nights, in the true spirit of chivalry, did he
watch before the altars, and then returned, full of holy
ardour, and armed for the battle. It was in the church
at Vezelay, on Whitsunday, that he intended to pronounce
his sentence of excommunication ; but two days before, a
messenger from the king of France informed him that
Henry was dangerously ill. He thought it proper, there-
fore, to defer the sentence as it regarded the king. But
with respect to others he proceeded to act.
On the morning of the festival, amidst an immense
concourse of people, the archbishop ascended the pulpit
and preached. At the close of the sermon a solemn pause
ensued ; the torches were extinguished ; the bells tolled ;
the crosses were inverted, and he pronounced his anathe-
mas. He cut off from the society of the faithful, John of
Oxford, who had communicated with the anti-pope ; those
of the royal ministers who had framed the constitutions
of Clarendon ; and all who had invaded the property of
p -4
174 BECKET.
the Church. The constitutions of Clarendon he read,
and six of them, as given above, he condemned. He
named the king, mentioned the letters he had written to
him, and now publicly called upon him to repent, and
to make satisfaction for the injuries he had done to the
Church, declaring that if he persisted in his sin, the
sentence they had heard pronounced against others should
speedily fall on his own head.
Becket returned in haste to Pontigny, whence he wrote to
his suffragans in England, and to Alexander, stating what
he had done. The pope was at this time inclined to support
him. Henry was naturally alarmed, lest this should only
be the first step towards laying his kingdom under an
interdict, when all the offices of the Church would be
suspended, and he himself be rendered liable to attack from
any enemy who might think fit to assail him. He there-
fore sent orders into England, that all communication
with the archbishop, under the severest penalty, should
cease ; that the ports should be diligently watched, and
that the prelates of his realm, directly in the teeth of the
constitutions of Clarendon, should renew their appeals to
the pope. The prelates appealed, and an angry corres-
pondence ensued between them, especially Gilbert Foliot,
bishop of London, their leader, and the primate. The
latter, as usual, received encouragement and advice from
the excellent John of Salisbury, who seems to have treated
him as his child. " Some," he said, " will disapprove of
the rashness of thus exposing your life to your enemy's
swords, and will call it wiser to defer the danger till more
thorough repentance has fitted you for martyrdom, I answer,
no one is unfit but the unwilling. Young be he or old,
jew or gentile, christian or infidel, man or woman, it
matters not. Whoever suffers for justice is a martyr, i. e.
a witness of truth, an asserter of Christ's cause." His
rhetoric, in alluding to an infidel, detracts from the effect
of this sentence. In advising Becket further, he exhorts
him to meet the archbishop of Rouen, who gave out that
BECKET. 175
all his actions proceeded from pride and anger, " with a
studied display of moderation in all your words and
actions, as ivell as your dress and deportment. And yet this
will be of little avail in the sight of God, unless it proceeds
from the inner secrets of your conscience." " But more
than all," he says in another part of his letter, " be dili-
gent in prayer and the other exercises of Christian
warfare." " I think, too, that you have the Spirit of God.
For he who gave you zeal when your deserts were little,
will not refuse you wisdom now you deserve it and are in
this emergency. I advise you then, as an old father and
master" (Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury,) "used to
say to you, ' not to hide in your boot what God inspires
into your heart,' nor to prefer the counsels of less wakeful
and sincere advisers." Of the English bishops, John of
Salisbury says, " some had married wives, and were ener-
vated ; others had bought yokes of oxen ; others had been
heaping up riches, not telling who should gather them ;
all were engrossed in pleasures of one sort or another ;
and therefore they chose, I say, to have their ears bored
with an awl, and to mark themselves as bondmen for ever
to the iniquitous Customs, rather than be elevated to
spiritual liberty." This is the sentence of a partizan, for
some of the bishops of the church of England, and Gilbert
Foliot, their leader, were men of a highly spiritual class of
mind, who disliked Becket from the beginning, because
they regarded him as a mere polemic.
Things now for a little time went on prosperously with
Becket ; his public acts were in the course of the summer
confirmed by the pope, who ratified his suspension of the
bishop of Salisbury for admitting John of Oxford to the
deanery of his church, and the excommunications of
Vezelay. Towards the end of September, the pope issued
a mandate for restoring to the exiled party the benefices
and the proceeds from them, of which they had been
unjustly deprived ; and, what was perhaps the most im-
portant step of all, as indicating his favourable feeling
towards the archbishop, he now conferred on him the
176 BECKET.
appointment of legate, which had been his intention for
some time back. The cause of the king seemed thus to
be in a most unprosperous condition, when for a while it
was restored to better hopes, by the success which attended
an embassy to Rome, not so much with a view of prose-
cuting the appeal, as to sooth the pontiff, who was at
this time in great need of money, to bribe the cardinals,
and to procure the appointment of two legates from the
papal court. At the head of this embassy was John of
Oxford, who had suggested the expedient ; a man noto-
rious as one who was at all times ready to swear and to
forswear himself, and who was known by the name of John
the swearer. It was a bold step to send him, as he was
excommunicated and denounced at Rome, and was an
enemy of Alexander as well as of the primate, having had
communications with the anti-pope. But the appointment
was in a worldly sense a wise one. The gold of his master
he largely distributed with both hands, and but few of
" the sacred college" refused it. The cardinals espoused
his cause. He was ready to make every concession. He
was himself absolved from excommunication; resigning
the deanery of Salisbury into the hands of the pope, he
was by the pope reinstated in it ; and declaring that " the
difference between the king and the archbishop might be
accommodated were there an honest man to mediate," he
obtained a promise that legates should be sent.
Henry had recourse to conduct as mean as it was
vindictive against the archbishop, for, seeing the undis-
turbed life he was leading at Pontigny, a monastery of
the Cistercian order, he signified to the chapter that if
they harboured his enemy much longer, he should confis-
cate their property in England. The monks of Pontigny
were perplexed, but Becket saved them from their per-
plexities by removing to Sens, where he was gladly received
by the bishop and people, and lived under the protection
of the king of France. At Sens he contrived to reside
throughout the remainder of his exile.
Nothing could exceed the astonishment of the primate
BECKET. 177
and his friends, when the humiliating news reached them
of the appointment of the legates. Becket wrote letters ex-
pressive of the strongest indignation, censuring the weak
pliancy of Alexander and the venality of "the sacred college."
" If reports be true," wrote Becket to a friend, "he has not
only choked and strangled me, but himself, all ecclesias-
tics, and the two churches of England and France."
Henry was in proportion elated; " I have the pope," he
said, " and cardinals in my purse, nor need you fear any
of their threats," and he then told his courtiers what
cardinals had taken money, and by what means they had
been bribed. He forgot to add, that to cany his point he
had conceded the object in dispute, and that John of
Oxford had submitted the constitutions of Clarendon to
the judgment of the pope ; for by this concession he never
intended to abide. On the other hand, Louis, who was
true to the archbishop, and not less indignant, declared
that the legates should not pass through his kingdom.
" Had he sent them," he exclaimed, " to take the crown
from my head, I should not have been more troubled."
And the friends of the archbishop had more reason to
feel indignant, when they found placed at the head of the
legatine commission William of Pavia, who was hostile to
Becket, and who openly declared his predetermination to
decide in favour of the king, and on whom it was reported
that the see of Canterbury would be conferred if Becket
were deposed. The other legate was cardinal Otho, of
St Nicholas, with whom Becket was less dissatisfied,
though he too was known to be favourable to the king.
But the vacillating and time-serving Alexander was
alarmed by the indignation with which his proposed mea-
sure had been regarded by the French king, and he
actually nullified the whole proceeding, by commanding
his legates not to enter Henry's dominions, or to take any
decided steps, till the archbishop was reconciled to the
king ; so that the legates, granted as a boon to Henry,
were restrained from acting, in order to conciliate Louis,
till Becket might think fit to give authority to their pro-
178 BECKET.
ceedings. In writing to Louis, after eulogizing the
archbishop, and requesting him to use his good offices to
promote reconciliation, he adds, " But should our efforts
fail, might it be agreeable to you, and not offensive to the
dignitaries of your realm, I should be happy to appoint
the archbishop my legate in the kingdom of France. Let
this be secret."
William of Pavia wrote a haughty letter to Becket with
reference to the legation, and Becket prepared first one
and then another letter in reply, full of indignation and
sarcasm, the first of which, certainly, and the second of
which, probably, he laid aside without sending, on the
advice of his faithful and fearless adviser and friend, John
of Salisbury, who, with reference to the first of Becket's
letters, honestly says : " I have read the letter which your
lordship means to send lord William : and though I will not
pass sentence on the writer, I certainly cannot approve
the style. To my mind it is deficient in humility, and
not quite consistent with the command, ' let your modera-
tion be known to all, the Lord is at hand.' If your
lordship's letter and his are compared clause by clause,
the answer seems conceived in a spirit of bitterness, very
foreign to the sincerity of Christian love."
Softened by the admonitions of his friend, for the high-
spirited archbishop seemed always ready to bend before
the rebukes of one whom he felt to be his superior in
godliness as well as in learning, Becket obtained a pass-
port for the legates for their journey through France,
which, except for his interposition Louis would not have
granted, and for obtaining which he received a letter of
thanks from cardinal Otho.
The legates, on arriving in Normandy, had an interview
with the king, and they appointed a day for conference
with the archbishop. On the 18th of November, 1167,
the conference took place between Gisors and Trie. The
legates sought by every means to bend if possible the
firmness of Becket, and recommended to him moderation
and humility. The king and his party made bitter com-
BECKET. 179
plaints of his ingratitude, and charged him with exciting
war between England and France and Flanders. Becket
defended himself against all the charges brought against
him, and as to the humility and deference which they re-
commended, he declared himself most anxious to exhibit
it in every way, saving only the honor of God, the
liberty of the Church, and the dignity of his own station.
If this seemed too little or too much, or in any way dif-
ferent from their view, he was ready to make any com-
pliance, consistent with his oaths, and saving his order.
As to the charge of having caused war between the kings
of England and France, the king of France assured the
legates upon oath, that the primate had counselled peace,
on such terms as should secure the honor of the two kings
and the tranquillity of the people.
Henry had consented to some trifling modification of
the constitutions of Clarendon, and in the strerjgth. of this
the legates endeavoured to persuade Becket to comply in
all things to the king's wishes ; on the archbishop's refus-
ing to do this, as the alteration made no essential differ-
ence in the state of the case, the legates had nothing else
to do but to return to the king to report progress. They
found the king at Argentan. What passed at their
audience is not known; but, in about two hours, they
came out and the king walked with the legates to an outer
door: "May my eyes never look on a cardinal again!"
was his angry exclamation as they turned from him. The
legates, however, had another interview with the king,
and shewed the spirit with which they had entered on
their task, by sending to the pope partial statements of the
position of affairs, and of the conduct of either party,
which told against the archbishop, and which were of
course seconded by the efforts of the envoys of Henry at
the court of Rome. In order to obtain time and prevent
the archbishop from placing the kingdom under an inter-
dict, a fresh appeal was instituted to the see of Rome.
Various controversies on points of minor interest
occurred in the year 1168 between the legates and the
180 BECKET.
archbishop. Their unfriendly influence and partial acts
were met with a promptness and vigilance by Becket,
which must have rendered their legantine a complete
failure in the estimation of the king, when the king's
envoys unexpectedly returned from Koine with letters from
the pope, signifying that the archbishop had been sus-
pended, that is, forbidden all exercise of his spiritual
powers, till such time as it should please the king to be
reconciled to him. The archbishop and his friends were
astounded. The effect that this measure had upon the
king is described by John of Salisbury in a letter to
Lombard.
'* The king soon made it evident how he had triumphed
over his lordship the pope, and over the church of Rome ;
and to hold up his lordship of Canterbury and his fol-
lowers, as a scorn of men and an outcast of the people,
he caused transcripts to be made of certain letters from
his lordship the pope, licensing him to sin in impunity,
and forwarded them to all the churches and dignitaries of
each kingdom. He boasted, too, that he had in the court
such friends as rendered all the attempts of the arch-
bishop of Canterbury ineffectual; friends so active in his
interest, that the archbishop could make no petition or
demand, of which he did not receive immediate notice.
We know the names of those whose services he makes use
of, and through whose influence in the court, the cause of
God and of Christ's little ones, has been thus sold for
nought. (For the multitude was not in their counsels.)
Would that those ounces of gold had never been, through
which, those who ought to have been the pillars of the
Church were excited to cause its fall. So elated was the
king with this his triumph, that in his own family he
he could not refrain from naming those of the cardinals
who had accepted his pestilential gold, and those who
were his agents, in dispensing to some more to some less,
according to the zeal they had shown in subverting
justice.
"When we were at Montmirail, the king of France
BECKET. 181
learned that a messenger from his lordship, John of
Naples, had gone over from his camp to the king of
England, and the other persecutors of the Church.
" The religious who take part with the king of England,
when they heard the aforesaid letters, were sad beyond
measure, and uttered imprecations against John of Naples,
and John of St John and St Paul, who were said to have
seduced his lordship the pope. M. Geoffrey, of Poictiers,
a cleric of my lord cardinal William, did not consent to
the counsel and practices of the king's ambassadors, (for
he himself too is waiting for the kingdom of God) but
openly protested, ' that they had perjured themselves,
and incurred an anathema ; ' inasmuch as they had sworn
that the pope's mandate should be kept secret, and that
his holiness had commanded them so to keep it, in virtue
of their obedience, and under peril of an anathema:
whereas they, to render us contemptible and our friends
disconsolate, herald forth with their king the triumphs
of their own wickedness, glorying in the confusion of the
Church.
" Would that my lord cardinals were within hearing of
the French ; among whom it has become a proverb, that
the princes of the Church are faithless, and companions of
thieves, ' Ecclesiae principes inrideles, socii furum;' for
that they authorise the plunder of Christ's patrimony, to
share in it. Would that you likewise could hear his most
christian majesty, who, as I fear, is now irrevocably deter-
mined, at the solicitation of the emperor, to contract a
marriage between their children. Earl Henry is urging
this, and entertains great hopes of succeeding.
"And now I entreat you, use your influence with his
lordship the pope, urging him to act the part of a judge.
Let him absolve the innocent who is bound without cause,
and condemn the impious who is now displaying to the
whole world his prowess as a persecutor. Endeavour also
to procure an injunction against the archbishop of York,
that he may be compelled to show deference and subjection
to the suffering Church of Canterbury."
VOL. II. q
182 BECKET.
The conduct of the pope was still as inconsistent as it
had been all along : although he thus gave a triumph to
Henry, he still feared to provoke Becket beyond endurance ;
and while writing to the bishops of our church admitting
their appeal, he censured them severely for their disobedi-
ence to their metropolitan. But the most extraordinary
thing was that in writing to Becket to console him, he
mentioned a little fact of a very consolatory nature which
by artifice or accident he had forgotten to mention to
Henry, namely that the suspension was only to last till
Lent. Becket did not fail to express his feelings of indig-
nation to the pope, to whom, in ignorance of his rights
as an independent archbishop, he had yielded already
too much. The following extracts from the archbishop's
letter will show the state of his feelings :
" Holy father, it is an easy matter to suspend the
powers of our office, but not so easy to arrest the right
arm of our God, which is now bowing the heads of tyrants.
Your faithful ones fear much, that, while you wait better
times for the execution of justice, the best may slip away
from you. Our enemies are now in a strait. He who
terrifies is himself more terrified. ' Be comforted,' saith
the Lord, ' and be strong, and fear not their faces, for I
am with thee.'
" O, my father, my soul is in bitterness ; the letters in
which your holiness was pleased to suspend me, have
made myself and my unhappy fellow-exiles, a very scorn
of men and outcast of the people ; and what grieves me
worse, have delivered up God's Church to the will of its
enemies.
" Our persecutor had held out sure hopes to the earl of
Flanders, and others of the French nobility, that he meant
to make peace with us. But his messengers arrived with
their new powers from your holiness, and all was at an
end.
" What could our friends do for us when thus repulsed
by your holiness's act, and smitten down as with the club
of Hercules ?
BECKET. 183
'• Would that your holiness's ears could hear what is said
of this matter by the bishops, nobles, and commons of
both realms ; and that your eye could see the scandal
with which it has filled the French court.
" But your holiness counsels me to bear with patience
the meanwhile
" And do you not observe, 0 father, what this mean-
while may bring about, to the injury of the Church and
of your holiness's reputation?
" Meanwhile, he applies to his own purposes the reve-
nues of the vacant abbeys and bishoprics, and will not
suffer pastors to be ordained there : meanwhile, he riots
in uncontrolled insolence against the parishes, churches,
holy places, and the whole sacred order : meanwhile, he
and the other persecutors of the Church, make their will
their law : meanwhile, who is to take charge of the sheep
of Christ, and save them from the jaws of wolves, who no
longer prowl around, but have entered the fold, and devour,
and tear, and slay, with none to resist them ? For what
pastor is there whose voice you have not silenced ? what
bishop have you not suspended in suspending me ?
" This act of your holiness's is alike unexampled and
unmerited, and will do the work of tyrants in other days
as well as yours. Your holiness has set an example ready
to their hands ; and doubtless this man and his posterity,
unless your holiness take steps to order otherwise, will
draw it into a precedent. He and his nobles, whatever
be their crime, will claim among the privileges of the
realm, exemption from any sentence of excommunication
or interdict, till authorized by the apostolic see ; then in
time, when the evil has taken root, neither will the chief
priest of Rome himself find any in the whole kingdom, to
take part with him against the king and his princes.
" And yet I doubt not that this struggle for the Church's
liberty would long ago have been brought to a close, unless
his wilfulness, not to use a harsher term, had found
patrons in the church of Rome. God requite them as is
best for His Church and for themselves. The Almighty
184 BECEET.
all-just Lord God judge between me and them. Little
should I have needed their patronage, if I had chosen to
forsake the Church, and yield to his wilfulness myself. I
might have flourished in wealth and abundance of deli-
cacies ; I might have been feared, courted, honoured, and
might have provided for my own in luxury and worldly
glory, as I pleased. But because God called me to the
government of His Church, an unworthy sinner as I was,
and most wretched, though flourishing in the world's goods
beyond all my countrymen, through His grace preventing
and assisting me, I chose rather to be an outcast from the
palace, to be exiled, proscribed, and to finish my life in the
last wretchedness, than to sell the Church's liberty, and
to prefer the iniquitous traditions of men, to the law
of God.
" Such a course be for those who promise themselves
many days, and in the consciousness of their deserts, ex-
pect better times. For myself, I know that my own days
are few ; and that unless I declare to the wicked man his
ways, his blood will shortly be required at my hands, by
One from whom no patronage can protect me.
• There silver and gold will be profitless, and gifts that
blind the eyes of wise ones.
■• We shall soon stand all of us before the tribunal of
Christ, and by His majesty and terrible judgment I con-
jure your holiness, as my father and lord, and as the
supreme judge on earth, to render justice to His Church,
and to myself, against those who seek my life to take it
away."
While Becket was remonstrating, anl the king of France
shewing his disgust at Alexander's conduct, Henry was
turning the license which had been given him to a practical
account. He had already alienated many of the lands and
-sions of the church of Canterbury, besides commit-
ting wanton destruction on what was left, and had begun
to levy exactions from the whole body of the clergy, and
was proceeding to further acts of violence, when the pope
began to see the necessity of retracing his steps. He ap-
BECKET. 1-:.
pointed an embassy for the purpose of remonstrating with
Henry and pressing him to reconciliation, on peril of the
sentence of the Church which would otherwise inevitably
fall upon him, when the restraint at present imposed
upon the archbishop was removed. This appointment
took place towards the close of the year 1168, the en-
voys chosen being Simon, prior of Montdieu. Engelbert,
prior of Le Val de St Pierre, and Bernard, a monk of
GrammoDt.
Through the intercession of these envoys Beckt-
persuaded to present himself before Henry at Montmirail,
where the kings of France and England had met in c
ence to settle their political differences : though in attend-
ing the conference the archbishop himself felt no
tation of a satisfactory result. Henry in appearance gave
way and made concessions. The constitutions of Clarendon
were not mentioned by name ; but then Becket was re-
quired to swear that he would keep to the ancient customs
of the realm. He consented to do this with the clause.
savin rf his order, and as far as his duty to God permitted :
the king demanded the oath absolutely and without
ditions: and they parted without coming to terms. The
impression on most panics seems to have been that Becket
had acted with obstinacy rather than firmness* The king
of France, who had endeavoured to persuade him to yield.
seemed to be irritated against him. and his dependants
began to murmur.
But Becket. unintimidated, had recourse again to -
rity. On all sides, he spread his censures, suspending
and excommunicating many, but those particularly who
had pillaged, or who kept possession of the effects be-
longing to his see. Among these was the bishop of
London, whom before, it seems, he had suspended,
general was the sentence, that scarcely among the king's
chaplains was there one, from whom, at mass, he could
take the kiss of peace. Fearful that the anathema might
reach them, the prelates of the realm and the nobles
Q.9
186 BECKET.
reiterated their appeals to Rome ; and the king again sent
messengers to the pontiff, namely, the archdeacons of
Salisbury and Landaff."
The pope expressed himself towards Becket with con-
siderable displeasure at these violent proceedings, and
advised him to suspend the sentence he had pronounced
against the dignitaries of the realm, in order to mitigate
the king's wrath till he should hear from the papal envoys
whether the king would realize his promise of recalling
him. The matter, in the end, was handed over, as all other
points at issue, to an embassy, the third which had been
appointed in the course of the two last years. The nuncios
appointed were Gratian and Vivian, men learned in the
laws, and of great reputation in the Roman court. They
were bound by oath not to accept any present from Henry,
and they came with a form of agreement prescribed by
Alexander, and if the king would not consent to it, they
were ordered to leave him.
Their first interview with the king was at Donefront in
Normandy which led to no satisfactory result, both parties
separating in anger ; but at a conference held soon after at
Baieux the nuncios were more successful, and Henry ex-
pressed his readiness to permit Becket to return to his
see, and to take the archbishop and his friends once more
into favour. But peace was not yet restored. The form
of reconciliation remained to be settled, and the king in-
sisted that the words, saving the dignity of his kingdom,
should be inserted. " That was but a softer name for the
customs of Clarendon," observed the primate's friends,
and proposed that the counter-clause, saving the dignity
of the Church, should then be admitted. Assemblies
were held; discussions full of acrimony were revived; and
neither party would recede. Michaelmas, in the mean
time, approached, when the commission of the nuncios
expired, and Gratian, weary of the fruitless negociation,
prepared to return into Italy. Vivian remained.
The king had more confidence in Vivian, imagining,
BECKET. 187
after the departure of his colleague, that he might be pre-
vailed on to adopt his measures. He proposed to meet
him at St Denys, to which place Vivian entreated that
Becket also would repair, being convinced, from some ex-
pressions of Henry, that an accommodation would now be
effected. The primate very reluctantly consented, and
came to Corbeil. At St Denys, where the two kings again
met on some public business, Vivian, in vain, laboured to
extort from Henry a final compliance with the promise,
he thought he had made him. His answers were evasive;
and the Italian finding himself duped, did not restrain
his anger: " So lying a prince," said he, " I never heard
or saw." They parted ; and the king, passing by Mont-
martre, was visited by Becket. The archbishop of Rouen,
with other mediators, spoke for the primate ; requesting
in his name, that to him and his friends he would give
peace, permit their return, and restore their possessions
to them : " while the primate, on his side, they said, was
ready to do all that an archbishop owed to his prince."
After some conversation, which seemed to promise a happy
issue, the petition was reduced to writing, when Becket
added that, as a pledge of favour and greater security, he
hoped he might be reconciled to the king by a kiss of
peace. This was a customary form in reconciliations.
The petition was read, and much approved; but again the
king had recourse to evasions, using a circuitous language,
which, while it seemed to grant every thing, was, in fact,
loaded with inadmissible conditions. " And as to the
kiss of peace," said he, "willingly I would grant the
pledge, had I not publicly sworn in my anger never to do
it, though concord were restored betwixt us." Thus ended
the treaty ; for the king of France and many others
strongly advised the primate not to return to his see,
unless Henry gave this easy token of peace.
The year 116U closed without any reconciliation being
effected between the king and the primate. But Henry,
knowing the firmness and determination of Becket, was
now in no little alarm lest his kingdom should be placed
188 BECKET.
under an interdict. He sent therefore an edict into
England purporting, that if any person should be found
carrying any mandate from the archbishop or the pope,
whereby an interdict should be laid on the country, he
should be treated as a traitor to the king and kingdom.
He also in 1170 procured the coronation of his son Henry,
a ceremony at which the archbishop of York officiated,
though it was the province, by prescription, of the arch-
bishop of Canterbury ; and thus he again placed himself
in the wrong, and afforded a new grievance, of which
Becket justly complained. The policy of this measure
has been amply but unsatisfactorily discussed by modern
historians; perhaps Henry supposed that by having his son
anointed, if he himself were excommunicated, there would
be a way through his son of evading the interdict. But
whatever may have been the policy of the measure, Henry
now perceived difficulties increasing around him, and that
nothing but a reconciliation with Becket would restore
him to peace. He was tired of the controversy, and acted
as impetuously in seeking a recouciliation as he had when
commencing the quarrel.
The pope had previously issued a new commission to
Rotrodus or Rotrou archbishop of Rouen, and Bernard
bishop of Nevers, who were ordered to wait upon Henry,
and to admonish him to permit Becket to return to his
see, to restore to him and his friends their possessions
with full security, and to be reconciled to him with the
kiss of peace : if he refused they were directed to lay all
his dominions in France under an interdict ; but if a
prospect of accommodation appeared, they were authorized
to absolve the excommunicated, and to exhort the king to
abolish the evil customs of his kingdom. Alexander had
received an intimation that to these terms Henry would
submit, and before he left England the king assured the
nuncios that nothing should on his side frustrate the
treaty.
The king and the archbishop met by agreement in a
meadow near the town of Freitville, on the borders of
BECKET. 189
Touraine, where he had held a conference and settled his
differences with the king of France. As soon as Becket
appeared, the king spurring forward his horse with his
cap in his hand, prevented his salutation, and as if no
dissention had ever divided them, discoursed with him
apart with all that easy familiarity which had distinguished
their former friendship. The crowd of spectators was
vast, and all viewed the transaction with pleasure. With
much gentleness, the primate exhorted Henry to retrieve
his reputation which had suffered, and to make satisfaction
to the Church. The king assented. Becket then spoke of
the late coronation, which he represented as an enormous
derogation from the rights of Canterbury, and histori-
cally detailed the uniform practice from the conquest.
"I doubt not," said Henry, "but your see is the most
noble amongst the western churches ; nor is it my wish
to deprive it of its rights ; rather, as you shall advise, I
will strive to repair the evil, and to restore to Canterbury
its pristine dignity. But to those who hitherto have
betrayed both you and me, I will, by the blessing of God,
make such an answer, as the deserts of traitors demand."
At the words, Becket sprang from his horse, and threw
himself before the king; but he, seizing the stirrup, forced
him to remount, and said, as the tears fell from his eyes :
" My lord archbishop, why many words ? Let us restore
to each other our former affection, and in mutual good
offices, forget every cause of rancour. But shew me
honour, I beg, before those yonder, who have their eyes
turned towards us." With this, leaving Becket, he rode
up to the company, and observing some there who had
been promoters of the late quarrel, he spoke : " If, when
I find the primate full of all good dispositions in my
regard, I were not reciprocally good to him, truly, I
should be the worst of men, and prove that to be true,
which is said of me. There cannot be any counsel more
honourable or useful to me, than that I should strive to
go before him in kindness, and surpass him in the general
190 BECKET.
practice of beneficence." The address was received with
the warmest plaudits.
He sent to the primate, who remained at a distance,
desiring he would now, in the face of the assembly, state
his petition. The bishops who bore the message, advised
him to submit himself and his cause to the king's plea-
sure ; but he declined their counsel, and they left him.
He then deliberated with his friends, the companions
principally of his exile ; and having adjusted the terms,
they all moved towards the king, who stood surrounded by
his attendants. In the name of Becket, the archbishop
of Sens spoke, and petitioned, "that he would restore to
the primate his royal favour, peace and security to him
and his, with the church of Canterbury, and the posses-
sions belonging to it, as set down in a writing the king
had seen ; that he would be graciously pleased to amend,
what had been presumptuously done against him and his
church, in the late coronation ; while, on his side, the
primate promised love and honour, and whatever service
can be performed in the Lord, by an archbishop, to his
sovereign." — " I agree to all," replied the monarch, " and
the primate and his friends I again take into favour."
A long and private conversation, with the familiarity of
ancient friendship, now took place between them ; and
only as night approached, they parted, having agreed, that
Becket should first wait on the French king and his other
benefactors, as gratitude required ; and then make some
stay with Henry, before he returned into England, that
the world might learn how sincere their reconciliation was.
They were departing, when it was proposed to Becket, that
he should absolve the excommunicated, shewing to others
the indulgence, which himself had just experienced. He
observed, that the cases were very different, there being
some in that number whom the pope and other bishops
had suspended, and whose crimes were of various descrip-
tions . "But being willing to shew mercy to all," said he,
41 1 will take the advice of my king, and proceed as shall
BECKET. 191
seem most expedient." Apprehensive that an altercation
might ensue, Henry drew the primate from the crowd, and
requesting he would not heed the discourses of such men,
he begged his benediction, and they all retired.
Soon after the conference, as they had been empowered,
the commissioners absolved the excommunicated ; and
Becket despatched agents to take possession of the lands
and the effects of his see ; for the king had sent letters
patent to his son, whereby he was commanded to make an
ample restitution of all things, as they had been possessed
three months before the prirnate departed from England.
But it was the interest of many not to comply with these
injunctions. They had long received the great revenues
of the see, and were not disposed to relinquish them. Ex-
cuses therefore were made, difficulties were raised, the
young king was imposed upon, and the day of restitution
was put off. In the mean time, greater extortions were
committed, and the produce of the lands, and the furni-
ture of houses and castles, were consumed or conveyed to
a distance. So the agents reported.
Becket did not see the king again for several weeks,
and when he waited upon him at Tours he was received
with a marked coolness ; and the king, being pressed
to execute the terms of peace, he told Becket to go to
England, and that his possessions would be restored.
A few days after, he met him at Chaumont near Blois,
when Henry, with great kindness, conversed with him ;
and it was finally agreed, that he should immediately
return to Canterbury. But it was evident, that the
king's heart was altered, and that he felt no longer the
warmth of returning affection, which he had expressed
at Freitville. From that time two months had elapsed.
The change might be owing to many causes, (if ever his
professions were sincere,) but principally it arose from the
representations of those, who were interested in the pro-
longation of the quarrel, or who, from enmity to Becket,
wished he might never return.
These proceedings forced Becket to complain again to
19Q BECKET.
the court of Rome, and he now received the support in
that quarter which he had long desired, but sought for in
vain. The court of Rome, with its usual policy, aided
Becket when they perceived the cause of Becket to be the
strongest. The pope of Rome was now fully prepared
to support the primate of Canterbury, if the latter laid
England under an interdict, and he was advised to do so
o
if Henry still continued to violate his engagements. All
occupiers of church lands were ordered to make restitution
on pain of excommunication ; and the bishops who had
assisted at the coronation of prince Henry were suspended,
both on account of the irregularity of their proceedings,
and because they allowed the omission of the oath for
maintaining the liberty of the Church, and had themselves
sworn to observe the constitutions of Clarendon. The
bishops of London and Salisbury also, had been placed
again under the sentence of excommunication, which
Becket had pronounced, and which, by the usurped autho-
rity of the see of Rome, had been removed through the
management of John of Oxford. It is impossible not to
regret the entire submission which Becket exhibited to
the see of Rome, contrary to the canons of the Church
universal, and the more so as he had the wisdom to see
that the court of Rome ^as now as injudicious in its
support, as it had been before unjust in its interference
between him and the king. So strong, indeed, were the
threatened proceedings of the pope at this time, that
Becket for once was obliged to be moderator, and actually
withheld some letters, which gave him an authority to
exercise greater severity than he considered wise and
prudent.
It would have been well if Becket had continued to act
with this prudence. But while he was at Witsand, pre-
paring to sail for England, information was brought him
that the three prelates, Roger of York, Gilbert of London,
and Joscelin of Salisbury, who knew that the archbishop
carried with him papal letters for their suspension, which
he might use at any time, had sent to the coast Ranulf de
BECKET. 193
Broc, with a party of soldiers, to search him on his
landing, and to take them from him. In a moment of
irritation Becket despatched them before himself by a
trusty messenger, by whom, or by whose means, they were
delivered publicly to the bishops in the presence of their
attendants. Thus had Becket before reaching England
rendered a reconciliation with these powerful prelates im-
possible. He knew his difficulties ; he was forewarned of
his danger. The sarcasms with which the king of Eng-
land still refused the kiss of peace, which was really a part
of his promise, shewed that he meditated hostile proceed-
ings against the archbishop; and it was against the advice
of all that Becket returned to England before this formality
had been conceded. To the friendly advice of some who
came to him with no false reports of deadly preparations
to receive him on the shores of Kent, he answered : "Did
you tell me that I was to be torn limb from limb I would
not regard it ; for I am resolved that nothing shall hinder
my return. Seven years are long enough for a pastor to
have been absent from the Lord's sorrowing flock. I only
ask my friends, and a last request should be attended to,
that if I shall not return to my church alive, they will
carry me into it, dead."
He embarked on the festival of St Andrew, 1170, and
after a prosperous voyage landed in Sandwich harbour on
the first of December. He avoided Dover for reasons
assigned before. He was received by the clergy and peo-
ple with unbounded attestations of joy. The Church
was still the people's party. She was the protector of the
rights and liberties of the people, and was in the middle
ages, as in the primitive ages after the time of Constantine,
always popular, but never more so than when resisting
the tyrannical acts of an unjust government. The Church
was then powerful : and it was because Becket was at the
head of a body thus powerful, that Henry, while he hated,
dared not openly to attack him. It was not till the Church
succumbed to the state, and sought to become an aristo-
VOL. IT, n
194 BECKET.
cratic corporation that her power -was lost, and her means
of benefiting mankind curtailed. On the 3rd of Decem-
ber Becket entered Canterbury, " all the inhabitants,"
says Fitz-Stephen, a witness of the fact, " rejoiced, from
the greatest to the least : they decked out the cathedral ;
dressed themselves in silks and expensive clothing ; pre-
pared a public entertainment : a numerous procession
attended the archbishop into the town : the churches re-
sounded with chants and anthems, and the halls with
trumpets : every where there were sounds of rejoicing.
His lordship preached a most instructive sermon on the
text, " Here we have no continuing city, but seek one to
come." After he had been eight days in England he set
out to wait upon the young king, whom he had brought up
as boy, and for whom he had prepared splendid presents.
On his entering London Fitz-Stephen informs us that " a
vast multitude of clergy, and others, both men and women,
came out to welcome him back from exile, and to bless
God for his return. The poor scholars and the clergy of
the London churches, had drawn themselves up in order
about three miles from the city, and when, immediately
on his approach, with a loud and clear voice, they began
the hymn Te Deum Laudamus, there was scarcely a per-
son present who could refrain from weeping. He himself
bowed his head in gratitude, and caused a large alms to
be distributed. When he had arrived at the church and
dismounted, the canons, who met him in procession at
the porch, sung the first verse of the hymn, ' Blessed is
the Lord God of Israel,' and the whole multitude, laity
and clergy, young and old, took up the response."
Little did the people know that the honest expression
of their joy at receiving their pastor again, only served to
exasperate the enemies of the primate. The courtiers,
wTho dreaded the influence of the archbishop over the
mind of his former pupil, procured a peremptory order for
him to return and confine himself to his diocese. He
obeyed, and spent the following days in prayer and the-
BECKET. 195
functions of his station. Yet they were days of distress
and anxiety. The menaces of his enemies seemed to
derive strength from each succeeding event. His pro-
visions were hourly intercepted ; his property plundered ;
his servants were beaten and insulted. He looked in vain
for support where he had most right to expect it.
It has been stated that the port of Dover, and other
ports, where the archbishop was expected to land, had
been watched. It is hardly fair to consider those who
undertook this office as a mere party of assassins, as is
done by some historians. It was reported that the arch-
bishop was bringing with him mandates from the pope,
and this was contrary to the laws of the land. They were
obeying the king when they determined to search the
archbishop. But on the day after the archbishop's first
arrival at Canterbury, these parties came into the presence
of the primate, and demanded the absolution of those
who had been excommunicated. The bishops of London
and Salisbury would have submitted, but were persuaded
by the prelate of York, who boasted that he had £8,000
in his treasure-box, wherewith to harass the archbishop of
Canterbury, and assured his two brethren that, if they
were reconciled with Becket, the royal hands would soon
be laid upon their temporals. This warning took such an
effect upon the two prelates, that they joined with the
archbishop of York, and immediately passed over to Henry
in Normandy, and made bitter complaints against the
primate, on account of their excommunication, for the
part they had taken in the young king's coronation.
" Truly," answered Henry, with an oath, " if all who took
part in that business are excommunicated, I myself am
not excluded."' The three prelates continued day by day
to urge him, till his anger knew no bounds ; and it is
well known that Henry, when under the influence of rage,
was wont to sink far below human nature.
Others there were who were continually misrepresenting
the actions of the archbishop to the king. On his way
back from London to Canterbury, he was attended bv a
106 BECKET
slight escort, as a precaution against freebooters. There
were in all " five shields, swords, and lances in his train."
It was immediately told Henry that he was making a
circuit of the kingdom at the head of a large army, arrayed
in helmets and coats of mail, that he was besieging towns,
and meditated driving the young king out of the country.
At Canterbury he dismissed his five soldiers. The king's
fury was fanned into resistless violence. He sought
council of his prelates and barons : " My lord," said one,
11 while Thomas lives you can have no peace." With such
violence of gesture as sufficiently spoke his meaning, the
king replied, — " Of the caitiffs who eat my bread, is there
none to free me from this turbulent priest."
Four barons, — Reginald Fitzurse, William de Tracey
Hugo de MoreviUe, and Richard Bryto left the court.
On Christmas-day the archbishop preached at Canter-
bury with his usual earnestness and animation : at the
conclusion, he observed that those who thirsted for his
blood would soon be satisfied, but that he must first
avenge the wrongs of the Church, by excommunicating
Ftanulf and Robert de Broc, who for seven years had not
ceased to inflict every injury in their power on him and
on his clergy.
At Saltwood, the residence of the Brocs, the four barons
above named assembled on the Tuesday following, to
arrange their operations for carrying into effect the vow
they had made, either to carry off or to murder the
primate.
The next day, the 29th of December, while the primate
was conversing on business with some of his clergy, after
dinner, the knights entered his apartment, his palace
forming part of Christ-church. Neglecting his salutation,
they seated themselves on the floor. It seems to have
been their wish to begin by intimidation : but if they
hoped to succeed, they knew little of the intrepid spirit
of their opponent ; and yet they knew him well, for the
atrocity of their conduct is heightened by the fact, that of
BECKET. 107
the four knights, three had, in the days of his prosperity,
sworn fealty to him.
" We bring you orders from the king," said Reginald
Fitzurse, after a pause of silence : " will you hear them in
" public, or in private?" " As it shall please you best,"
replied Becket. " In private then," rejoined Reginald:
on which the company was told to quit the room. But he
had not spoken long, when the primate observed that, it
would be well that others should hear what he said ; and
calling to his clergy, bade them to return. Reginald pro-
ceeded : " We order you, in the king's name, to go to his
son, and pay him the homage which is due to your lord."
" I have done it," replied Becket. — " You have not,"
said Reginald; "for you have suspended his bishops,
which looks as if you would tear the crown from his
head." — " Many crowns, rather, I would place on his
head ; and as to the bishops, they were suspended not by
me, but by the pope ;" answered the primate. — " The
sentence was procured by you," he rejoined. — Becket
said ; " It does not displease me, I confess, when the
pope avenges the injuries of the Church and my own."
He then spoke of the insults he had received, and of the
many evils to which his own possessions and those of his
friends had been exposed, since the reconciliation at
Freitville. "Had you brought these complaints before your
peers," observed Reginald, interrupting him, "justice
had been done you." — " I have experienced the contrary,"
replied Becket: "But, Reginald ; you and more than two
hundred knights were present, when the king told me,
I might compel those to make satisfaction, by ecclesias-
tical censures, who had disturbed the peace of the Church;
nor can I longer dissemble the proper discharge of my
pastoral duties." — The knights sprang from the ground;
"We heard no such words," exclaimed they : " but these
are threats. Honks ; we command you to guard this man :
if he escape, you shall answer for him." So saying, they
went out; but Becket following them to the outward door:
r2
198 BECKET.
" I came not here to run away, gentlemen." he called after
them; "nor do I value your threats." You shall find
something more than threats ;" they answered, and de-
parted.
" It is wonderful," said John of Salisbury, when they
were gone, " that you will take no one's advice. Why
still irritate those miscreants by your replies, and follow
them to the door? We could have advised you better."
" My resolution is taken," answered the primate: " and I
well know what I should do." " Heaven grant it may
he successful ! " rejoined the secretary.
In the court of the palace, under a large mulberry-
tree, the knights took off their outer garments, and ap-
peared in armour; and having opened the door to the
soldiers they had brought with them, they all seized their
arms, and again entered the palace. The arms the knights
bore, were an axe in the left hand, to break through ob-
stacles, if necessary, and in the right they brandished
their naked swords. With much difficulty the primate
had been prevailed on to leave his apartment : but the
monks, whom his danger had alarmed, insisted on it ;
and as the evening service had begun, they led him to the
church. With a slow and reluctant step, he advanced
through the cloisters, and entered by a side door. All was
confusion here. " Cowards," said he to them, as they
were barring the doors, " I forbid you to do it. I did not
come here to resist, but to suffer." Scarcely had he said
the words, when the assassins, who had not found him in
the palace, came rushing through the cloisters, and
entering the church, divided. The primate, meanwhile,
had ascended a few steps towards the choir. " Where is
the traitor Becket?" exclaimed Reginald Fitzurse ; and
as no answer was given: "Where is the archbishop?"
he repeated in a louder tone. Becket turned his head,
and coming down the steps, said ; " Here I am. Regi-
nald, I have done you many kindnesses : and do you
come to me thus armed ?" He seized the primate's robe :
BECKET. 109
" You shall know at once,'' said he. " Get out from
hence, and die." " I will not move ;" replied the primate,
drawing his robe from his hand. " Then fly ;" exclaimed
the knight. "Nor that either;" observed Becket : "but
if it is my blood you want, I am ready to die, that the
Church may obtain liberty and peace ; only, in the name
of God, I forbid you to hurt any of my people."
Reginald retired to give a severer blow ; and being
joined by the other assassins, he struck with all his
might : but Edward Grime, a clerk, interposing his arm,
received the weight of the blow, and the archbishop was
only wounded on the head. "Now strike:" exclaimed
Reginald. Becket bowing his head, in a posture of
prayer: "To God/' said he, "and the patrons of this
place, I commend myself and the Church's cause." They
were his last words. Without a motion or a groan, in the
same devout attitude, with his hands joined, he received
a second stroke, and as the murderers multiplied their
blows, he fell motionless at their feet, "He is dead,"
said they, and went out.
Thus died this extraordinary man, in the fifty-third
year of his age.
The clergy, with many of the inhabitants of Canterbury,
wept over the body that night. They were surprised to
find the habit of a monk and a hair shirt beneath the
splendid robes of the archbishop, who had not pretended
to any peculiar asceticism, even after his elevation to the
primacy.
Becket died a martyr, in the same sense in which
Ridley and Latimer, prelates of the same Church, suffered
martyrdom at a later period ; and perhaps we may add
the name of his successor, Cranmer : though Cranmer
sought to avoid his fate by a recantation, and Becket
preserved his constancy to the end. They were all of
them martyrs for principles which they believed to be
true, and in a cause which they thought to be the cause
of God and the gospel.
Becket contended for a principle, devoted his life to
200 BECON.
maintain it, and willingly died to support it. His prin-
ciple "was to maintain the liberty of the Church : but alas !
while he would contend for the Church's liberty against
the king, he was prepared to deliver her bound hand and
foot to a foreign prince and prelate, the bishop of Rome.
Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer contended for the Church's
liberty against the pope, but delivered her up a slave to
the state. While they defied the fulminations of the court
of Rome, at a time when they had begun to lose their
terrors, they succumbed to a tyrant like Henry VIII,
armed with despotic powers : Becket opposed with the
spirit of chivalry the tyranny of Henry II, but in ignor-
ance of his episcopal rights, and yielding to the temper of
the age, he appeared as a suppliant in the court of Rome.
By the church of Rome he was canonized, for, though
the primate of the church of England, he was a Romani-
zer, and did much to bring our beloved church under a
foreign yoke.
By his own church since the reformation, his name as
a saint has been erased from the calendar, and certainly
his virtues, though they are not to be denied, were not of
that high class and character which we look for in persons
regarded as saints, while the idolatrous worship paid at
his shrine before the reformation rendered it necessary
for the Church to take steps to prevent the repetition of
it. — Quadrilogus. F it z- Stephen. Ep. D. Thomm. Fronde's
Remains. History of Henry II. by Littleton Berrington.
Bapin. Lingard. Sharon Turner, and Poole.
Becon, Thomas, was born about the year 1511, but
whether Norfolk, Suffolk, or Kent had the honor of
being the place of his birth, his biographers are doubtful,
and he seems not to have known himself. At an early age
he wras sent to St John's college, Cambridge, where he
graduated in 1530. At that time there was a party in
the university anxiously desirous of obtaining a reforma-
tion in our venerable establishment : this reforming party
wras strongly opposed by most of the heads of houses and
BECON. 201
the influential members of the university, but it reckoned
among its numbers many men the most distinguished for
learning and virtue of the day. Becon mentions his
obligations at this time to Latimer and to Stafford, a
fellow at Pembroke hall, and reader in divinity : he
mentions a saying which had passed into a proverb among
the reforming party, " When master Stafford read, and
master Latimer preached, then was Cambridge blessed."
Becon was ordained in 1538; it is probable that his
reforming principles made him an object of suspicion to
the bishops of the church of England, and occasioned the
delay of his ordination until he was twenty-six years of
age. His first preferment was the vicarage of Brensett or
Brenzett, near Romney, in Kent. He was extremely
cautious in his manner of speaking of those doctrines and
ceremonies in which our beloved Church at that period
needed a reformation; so cautious, that he published
under the feigned name of Theodore Basil. Being aware
that Henry VIII was open to flattery, from policy or
attachment, he was lavish in his praises of that tyrannical
prince. But notwithstanding his caution and policy, he
fell under suspicion and was thrown into prison. He had
been long attached to the reforming party, but although
his pen had been ever ready to defend the principles of
the reformation, he did not think it necessary to defend
them by his blood or to die in the cause, and therefore
in 1541 he was brought to St Paul's cross, where he
recanted, revoked his doctrine, and burned his books.
He naturally felt that he could write other books, if by
his recantation he could save his life, and he was willing
to revoke his doctrine that his life might be spared to
benefit the reformation, if better days were to come. His
recantation commenced : " Worshipful audience, for decla-
ration of my penitent heart, and the testifying you my
unfeigned conversion from error to truth, I occupy this
day the place of a penitent praying you to give credit to
that which I shall now say of myself," &c. After his
recantation he retired quietly to the country. His dis-
202 BECON.
cretion on this occasion is vindicated by himself: "When
neither by speaking nor by writing I could do good, I
thought it best, he says in his "Jewel of Joy," not rashly
to throw myself into the paw of these greedy wolves ; but
for a certain season to absent myself from their tyranny,
according to the doctrine of the gospel." It may have
been according to the gospel to flee away from persecu-
tion, but it was " another gospel" to declare publicly his
" unfeigned conversion" from his former opinions, which
he called error, to certain other opinions which he called
truth, when, by so doing he was telling a falsehood. It
appears that if the " greedy wolves" were deceived into a
belief that his conversion was unfeigned, his friends were
soon persuaded that he had only told a falsehood to save
his life ; for on his retiring to the Peak of Derbyshire the
partizans of the reformation rallied round him, and in
the library of Mr Alsop he was pleased to find his own
treatises, published under the name of Basil, and he soon
forgot that he had denounced them and burnt them,
" with a penitent heart," as full of errors. From Derby-
shire he went to Staffordshire and thence to Warwickshire
and Leicestershire, supporting himself by pupils, and
finding pleasure in the society of the reformers. He
published also several treatises, though with his usual
discretion, under a feigned name. Among the works
published at this time was the " Governance of Virtue,"
written, as he expresses himself, "in the bloody, bois-
terous, burning time, when the reading of the holy Bible,
the word of our soul's health, was forbidden the poor lay
people."
On the accession of King Edward VI. the reforming
party was in power, and they gave proof that they consi-
dered Becon's former conversion as merely feigned to save
his life, by obtaining for him the rectory of St Stephen
Walbrook, to which he was instituted in 1547. He was
also chaplain to Dr Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury,
by whom he was appointed one of the six preachers in
Canterbury cathedral. Becon now began to enjoy the
BECON. 203
comforts of life : he married a wife and had several chil-
dren : he was soon after appointed chaplain to the duke
of Somerset, to whom he appears to have been sincerely
attached. It has been supposed by some that he held
also some post in the university of Oxford. He continued
to write, and his treatises at this time were chiefly devo-
tional. He was accustomed at all times to express himself
strongly, and therefore we may hope that his description
of the dreadful effects of the ultra-protestant principles
which were in vogue during the reign of Edward VI. may
be too deeply coloured. If it be only true in part, (and no
one was better able to judge of the truth than Thomas
Becon,) it will in some degree account for the violence
with which the reformers were opposed in the reign of
Mary, when the conservatives in state displaced the re-
formers, and the Romanizers for the last time obtained
ascendancy in our church. In his preface to the "Jewel of
Joy," Becon gives what Strype calls "a clear sight of the
behaviour of these times." What a number of false Chris-
tians," he says, " live there at this present day, unto the
exceeding dishonour of the Christian profession, which with
their mouth confess that they know God, but with their
deeds they utterly deny him, and are abominable, disobe-
dient to the word of God, and utterly estranged from all
good works ? What a swarm of gross gospellers have we
also among us, which can prattle of the gospel very finely,
talk much of the justification of faith, crake very stoutly
of the free remission of all their sins by Christ's blood,
avaunce themselves to be of the number of those, which are
predestinate unto eternal glory? But how far does their
life differ from all true Christianity ? They are puffed up
with all kind of pride : they swell with all kind of envy,
malice, hatred, and enmity against their neighbour, they
burn with unquenchable lusts of carnal concupiscence, they
wallow and tumble in all kind of beastly pleasures ; their
greedy covetous affections are insatiable : the enlarging
of their lordships, the increasing of their substance, the
scraping together of their worldly possessions infinite, and
204 BECON.
knoweth no end. In fine, all their endeavours tend unto
this end, to shew themselves very ethnics, and utterly
estranged from God in their conversation, although in
words they otherwise pretend. As for their alms-deeds,
their praying, their watching, their fasting, and such other
godly exercises of the spirit, they are utterly banished
from these rude and gross gospellers All their religion
consisteth in words and disputations ; in Christian acts
and godly deeds nothing at all."
On the accession of queen Mary, Becon was deprived
of his living as a married priest : he was also accused of
being a seditious preacher, and for preaching sedition was
cast into prison. He probably had advocated the unsuc-
cessful revolution attempted by the reforming party under
the lady Jane Grey. He continued in prison till March
1554. By what means he escaped is not known, but we
are told that " there is no reason to imagine that it was
through any dereliction of his principles :" indeed the
persons in power were not likely to believe him a second
time.
He repaired to Strasburgh : where he published among
other things a letter or treatise to popish priests, called
the "Displaying of the Popish Mass;" while his works
were considered as sufficiently important in England to
be denounced in a proclamation issued in 1555.
Becon returned home with the other reformers when
queen Elizabeth came to the throne. He was restored to
his benefice in London, and to his preachership at Can-
terbury. But he was not advanced to any high station in
the church ; the objection to him probably being that he
was opposed to the principles of the Church. In 1502 he
signed a paper, in conjunction with many other ultra-
protestants, containing propositions for the omission of
the catholic ceremonies still retained in the church of
England. And in 1564 we find him refusing to subscribe
to the ecclesiastical regulations which were put to the
London clergy for their subscription. The clergy were
summoned before the archbishop of Canterbury and the
BECON. 208
bishop of London at Lambeth, when, according to Strype,
the bishop's chancellor spoke thus : " My masters and
the ministers of London, the council's pleasure is, that
strictly ye keep the unity of apparel like to this man,"
pointing to Mr Robert Cole, (a minister likewise of the
city who had refused the habits a while, and now complied,
and stood before them canonically habited,) "as you see
him ; that is a square cap, a scholar's gown priest-like, a
tippet, and in the church a linen surplice : and inviolably
observe the rubric of the Book of Common Prayer, and
the queen's majesty's injunctions ; and the Book of Con-
vocation, [that must be the Thirty-nine Articles.] Ye that
will presently subscribe, write Yolo. Those that will not
subscribe, write Nolo. Be brief; make no words." And
when some would have spoken, the answer was, "Peace,
peace." Apparitor, call "the churches;" [that is, the
names of each parish church ; and each minister to an-
swer when his church was named.] " Masters, answer
presently, sub jmna contemptus; and set your names."
Then the Sumner called first the peculiars of Canter-
bury; then some of Winchester diocese, [viz. such
whose livings were in Southwark ;] and lastly, the London
ministers.
By these resolute doings many of the incumbents were
mightily surprised. And the above mentioned journalist,
who was one of them, thus wrote of it : " Mens hearts
were tempted and tried. Great was the sorrow of most
ministers, and their mourning, saying, We are killed in
the soul of our souls for this pollution of ours ; for that
we cannot perform in the singleness of our hearts this our
ministry."
Strype says that Becon refused at first, but afterwards
subscribed and was preferred, " as were others that did
the like."
He seems to have been noticed by Dr Parker, arch-
bishop of Canterbury, and to have been on friendly terms
with him, as a letter is preserved, in which, after men-
VOL. II. s
306 BECON.
tioning his own donation to his grace, of an ancient
exposition of the Gospels of St Mark and St Luke, he
adds, " My wife, your grace's daily oratrix, hath added
her poor present, that is, a couple of fat capons and six
chickens." This fact, coupled with his not obtaining
higher preferment, at a time when it was difficult to find
a sufficieDt number of respectable men, holding reforma-
tion principles, for the higher offices, inclines us to
suppose that he was known to be too ultra in his pro-
testantism.
His powers as a popular preacher were probably con-
siderable, as one of his Lent sermons at St Paul's cross,
made such an impression on the lord mayor, that his
lordship requested the archbishop of Canterbury that
Becon might be appointed to preach one of the Spital
sermons at the ensuing Easter.
His worldly circumstances were not good, as in several
of his prefaces and dedications he bemoans his poverty ;
he says in his preface to his catechism, written in 1560,
he had " ever been attempted with the cruel assaults of
envious fortune." But the poverty of a pluralist and a
prebendary of Canterbury must only have been compara-
tive. It was not the positive poverty of the primitive
Christians.
Becon died at Canterbury in 1563, having been the
author of tracts almost innumerable in favour of the re-
formation : they are now almost forgotten, but have lately
been reprinted by the Parker Society, a society to which
antiquarians and the collectors of rare books are much
indebted. There is a vigor in his style, and often a fervour
of devotion in his tone, which must have given an interest
and charm to his writings when they were first published ;
and although his works are disfigured by party feeling,
they may be profitably consulted by those who are engaged
in writing popular tracts. — Tanner. Strypes Crammer and
Parker. Luptons Modem Divines. Life prefixed to the
Parker Society's edition of Becon s Works.
BEDE. 207
Bede. ** The venerable Bede" was born about the year
673, in a village on the east coast of Northumberland,
now covered with the sea. He was a pupil of the noble
and learned Benedict Biscop, and studied for some time
in the monastery of Benedictines at Weremouth, of which
his tutor and patron was the founder. From Weremouth
he removed to the monastery of Jarrow, and at the age of
nineteen he was ordained deacon by John of Beverley,
bishop of Hexham. He continued to devote himself to
his studies, which embraced the whole circuit of learned
and polite literature of those days, as well as the pursuits
most becoming his sacred office, until he was thirty years
of age, when he was ordained priest by the same hand
which had admitted him to the diaconate.
The duties of priests are thus described in the canons
of Edgar : —
" They were forbidden to carry any controversy among
themselves to a lay-tribunal : their own companions were
to settle it, or the bishop was to determine it.
" No priest was to forsake the church to which he was
consecrated, nor to intermeddle with the rights of others,
nor to take the scholar of another. He was to learn sedu-
lously his own handicraft, and not put another to shame
for his ignorance, but to teach him better. The high-
born were not to despise the less-bom, nor any to be un-
righteous or covetous dealers. He was to baptize when-
ever required, and to abolish all heathenism and witchcraft.
They were to take care of their churches, and apply ex-
clusively to their sacred duties ; and not to indulge in idle
speech, or idle deeds, or excessive drinking ; nor to let
dogs come within their church-inclosure, nor more swine
than a man might govern.
" They were to celebrate mass only in churches, and on
the altar, unless in cases of extreme sickness. They were
to have at mass their corporalis garment, and the subucula
under their alba ; and all their omciatiug garments were
to be woven. Each was to have a good and right book.
No one was to celebrate mass, unless fasting, and unless
208 BEDE.
he had one to make responses ; nor more than three times
a day; nor unless he had, for the Eucharist, pure bread,
wine and water. The cup was to be of something molten,
not of wood. No woman was to come near the altar
during mass. The bell was to be rung at the proper
time.
" They were to preach every Sunday to the people; and
always to give good examples. They were ordered to teach
youth with care, and to draw them to some craft. They
were to distribute alms, and urge the people to give them,
and to sing the psalms during the distribution, and to
exhort the poor to intercede for the donors. They were
forbidden to swear, and were to avoid ordeals. They were
to recommend confession, penitence, and compensation ;
to administer the sacrament to the sick, and to anoint
him if he desired it ; and the priest was always to keep oil
ready for this purpose and for baptism. He was neither
to hunt, or hawk, or dice ; but to play with his book as
became his condition."
He now began, but not till he had been requested by
the bishop, to apply himself to writing; and his authorship
extended over the same wide field in which he had before
laboured as a student. Astrology, poetry, and rhetoric were
illustrated by his pen ; he wrote comments on parts of the
Holy Scriptures ; and he left behind him an ecclesiastical
history of England, which will be his most honourable
monument, as long as literature has any being. Besides
this, he was much engaged in the instruction of youth, a
task which he fulfilled in a manner nobly attested by the
future eminence of some of his pupils : nor did his hand
cease to labour in those offices which come, from a change
of habits, to be accounted menial, though the prosperity
of the more exemplary religious societies in those days,
partly depended on their being discharged by the honoured
hands of the priests and deacons of their fraternity.
His history Bede undertook at the instance of Ceolwulph,
king of Xorthumbria, a great admirer and patron of
learned men, and of those especially who led a monastic
BEDE. 209
life. After Becle's death, Ceolwulph himself, resigned his
crown, and became a monk at Lindisfarn ; by no means a
solitary instance of such a step in those days, and certainly
not so ignoble a one as some may sneeringly suggest,
There is difficulty enough, and more than enough, in any
state of society, to maintain a consistent Christian course,
when encumbered with the cares, and solicited by the
temptations, of state and splendour : but when princes
were either unworthy of their name or must themselves
be their own ministers in every department ; and when
the whole state of society was so barbarous and irregular as
to make it impossible to hold even the right, without vio-
lence or policy, which might soon degenerate into treachery
and cruelty, a great man might well seek repose and
time for the concerns of his soul, before he was called out
of this world of preparation for a better. It was perhaps a
venial ambition in the monasteries to court such retiring
princes to their walls : at any rate, there the noble recluses
found a rest congenial with their present wishes; and
thence, together with other means, the ecclesiastical bodies
acquired wealth, and a weight of influence which gives a
colour to the rest of the history of the middle ages.
Of the last hours of Bede we have an account by an eye
witness, and nothing can more beautifully attest the truth
of his religion, sanctifying all his labours, and bringing
him peace at the end. From a fortnight before Easter,
until the day of our Lord's accension, he had been troubled
with difficulty of breathing ; but he continued cheerful,
and occupied in his devotions, especially in thanksgiving :
nor did he forget the daily lessons, which he read to his
disciples. The night too was interrupted with his prayers
and hymns, and on Ascension-day singing the Antiphon,
" 0 Glorious King, Lord of power, who, triumphing on
this day, didst ascend above all the heavens, forsake not
us orphans ; but send clown upon us the promised Spirit
of Truth," at the words forsake us not, he and all with
him burst into tears. He was still engaged at such in-
s 2
210 BEDE.
tervals as he could command in dictating a translation
into the vernacular tongue of the gospel according to St
John. " Dear master," said his attendant, when he was
just ready to depart, " there is yet one sentence not writ-
ten." This he dictated, and said "It is ended. Support
my head on your hands, that I may sit facing the holy
place where I was wont to pray, and to sing ' Glory be to
the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost;"' when
he had named the Holy Ghost his spirit took its flight,
and all who beheld him die, said that they had never
before seen such devotion and tranquillity.
His death took place on Ascension-day, in the year of
grace 735, and he was buried by the brethren of his house,
in the south porch of the church of Jarrow. He was long
reverenced as a saint, nor will the true Christian refuse
him that most noble title to this day. In such men is
the real strength of the Church, though this strength may
be visibly wielded by such men as his contemporary
Wilfred.
Of the ecclesiastical history of Bede, it will be enough
to say, that he had to write of times into the annals of
which it is scarcely possible to infuse much interest, yet
the evident predominance of one feeling in his own heart,
irresistibly leads the heart of his reader with him ; and
amidst all the incoherency and disjointedness of his inci-
dent, which is the fault of his times, there is an admirable
unity of thought and design, which is his own peculiar
merit. He is every where the Christian and the ecclesi-
astical historian. His work is the chief authority for the
events of the preceding times, and where his task is closed,
there history assumes a darker and more uninviting aspect
for many generations.
The homilies of Bede were in such repute that they
were read in the churches even during his life, and he
takes his place among the very best expositors of Holy
Writ, in that or any age. His name is inserted in the
calendar on the :27th of May, which day the church
BEDELL. 311
of England appoints to be dedicated to his memory,
even to the present time. Numberless reasons have
been assigned why the epithet venerable should have
so inseparably been attached to Bede. It was probably
given to him by his contemporaries in his old age, from
the peculiar dignity of his manners. The legendary
tales relating to the origin of the title are amusing :
We are told that when he grew old, and was through
age blind, one of his disciples carried him abroad to a
place where there lay a great heap of stones, and told
him he was surrounded by a great crowd of people, who
waited with silence and attention to receive his spiritual
consolation. The old man accordingly made a long dis-
course, which he concluded with a prayer, and the stones
very punctually made their response, " Amen, venerable
Bede."
Another story relating to this title, and no less to be
credited than the first, is thus reported. A young man a
monk studying for an epitaph for Bede got thus far,
Hac sunt in fossa BEDiE ossa.
His head not being well turned for poetry, he could find
no words to fill up this hiatus ; and after tormenting him-
self to no purpose, he fell asleep : . but the next morning
returning to his task, with infinite astonishment he found
the line completed thus, by some invisible hand.
Hac sunt in fossa Bedae venerabilis ossa.
Cave. Bedes Works, edit, by Giles.
Bedell, William, was born in 1570 at Black Xotleyin
the county of Essex. In 1592, he was chosen fellow7 of
Emmanuel college, Cambridge, and took his degree of
B D. in 1599. On leaving the university he was pre-
sented to the living of St Edmondsbury in Suffolk, where
he remained till the year 1604, when he was appointed
by Sir Henry Wotton, at that time ambassador to the
republic of Venice, to be his chaplain. At Venice he
remained for eight years, and formed the friendship of
father Paul Sarpi.
112 BEDELL.
Pope Paul the Fifth had at this time placed the
republic of Venice under an interdict, and the Venetian
senate had taken steps to prevent the execution of the
interdict by an act prohibiting the cessation of public
worship and the suspension of the Sacraments. The
Jesuits and Capuchin friars, for obeying the orders of
the pope, had been banished from the Venetian ter-
ritories ; and the ablest pens, particularly that of Paul
Sarpi, were employed to determine, after an accurate and
impartial inquiry, the true limits of the Ptoman pontiff's
jurisdiction and authority. This movement, which threat-
ened a separation of the church of Venice from the church
of Rome, was viewed with interest by many members of
the church of England, but by none more than by Bedell.
He translated into Italian the English Prayer Book,
which was so favourably received by the seven divines,
appointed by the republic to preach against the pope,
that they were determined to take it as a model for their
own, had they been able to establish the independence
of their church.
Bedell at this time became acquainted also with the
celebrated Antonio de Dominis, archbishop of Spalato,
whom he assisted by correcting his well known book, " De
Republica Ecclesiastica."
On his return to England he brought with him the
manuscript of father Pauls history of the interdict and
inquisition, his history of the council of Trent, and a large
collection of letters on the controversy in which Paul bore
so conspicuous a part; and retiring to his cure at St
Edmondsbury, he there employed himself in translating
portions of them into latin. Here he married the widow
of the recorder of the town. In 1615 he was presented
to the living of Horningsheath, and in 1627 he was unani-
mously elected provost of Trinity college, Dublin : after
remaining in this post for two years, by the interest of
Laud, then bishop of London, and Sir Thomas Jermyn,
he was nominated to the sees of Kilmore and Ardagh,
being then in his fifty-ninth year.
BEDELL. 213
He found the church of Ireland in great disorder, and
applied himself with vigour to reform the abuses in his
own dioceses. He began with that of plurality of bene-
fices. To this end he convened his clergy, and, in a
sermon, laid before them the institution, nature, and
duties of the ministerial employment, froin the Scriptures
and the fathers, and after sermon, discoursed to them
upon the same subject in latin, and exhorted them to
reform that abuse. To prevail on them the better, he
told them he resolved to shew them an example in parting
with one of his bishoprics, and he accordingly resigned
Ardagh. He made several regulations with respect to
residence, was extremely watchful of the conduct of the
clergy, and no less circumspect in his own behaviour. His
ordinations were public and solemn. He preached and ad-
ministered the Holy Sacrament on such occasions himself.
He never ordained any person to priests orders till a year
after his having been made deacon, that he might know
how he had behaved during that time. He wrote certifi-
cates of ordination and other instruments with his own
hand, and suffered none who received them to pay any
fees. When he had brought things to such a length, that
his clergy were willing to assist him in the great work of
reformation, he convened a synod in September, 1638, in
which he made many canons which are still extant. There
were some who regarded this synod as an illegal assembly,
and thought that his presuming to make canons was
against law, so that there was some talk of bringing him
before the star-chamber, or high-commission court ; but
his archdeacon, afterwards archbishop of Cashel, gave such
an account of the matter as satisfied the state. Arch-
bishop Usher said on this occasion to those who were very
earnest for bringing him to answer for his conduct, You
had better let him alone, lest, if when provoked, he
should say much more for himself, than any of his accu-
sers can say against him. Bedell having observed that
the ecclesiastical court in his diocese was a great abuse,
being governed by a lay chancellor who had bought the
214 BEDELL.
place from his predecessor, and for that reason thought he
had a right to all the profits he could raise : removed the
chancellor, and resuming the jurisdiction of a bishop, sat
in his own courts and heard causes with a select number
of his clergy, by whose advice he gave sentence. The
chancellor upon this brought a suit against the bishop
into chancery, for invading his office. Bolton, the lord
chancellor of Ireland, confirmed the chancellors right,
and gave him a hundred pounds costs against the bishop;
and when Bedell asked him how he could give such an
unjust decree, he answered, that all his father had left
him was a register's place, and therefore he thought he
was bound to support those courts, which must be ruined
if some check was not given to the bishop's proceedings.
The chancellor, however, gave him no further disturbance,
nor did he ever call for his costs, but named a surrogate,
with orders to obey the bishop. Bishop Bedell was no per-
secutor of papists, nor did he approve of those who made
use of harsh expressions against popery. In an extract of
one of Bedell's sermons given us by bishop Burnet, we
meet with the following passage : "It is not the storm of
words, but the strength of reasons, that shall stay a waver-
ing judgment from errors, &c; when that like a tempest is
overblown, the tide of others' examples will carry other
men to do as the most do ; but these like so many anchors
will stick, and not come again. Besides our calling is to
deal with errors, not to disgrace the man with scolding
words. It is said of Alexander, I think, when he overheard
one of his soldiers railing lustily on Darius his enemy,
he reproved him, and added, Friend, I entertain thee to
fight against Darius, not to revile him. Truly it may be
well thought that those that take this course shall find but
small thanks at Christ's our captain's hands, and it is not
unlike but he would say to them, were he here on earth
again ; ' Masters, I would you should refute popery and
set yourselves against antichrist my enemy, with all the
discoloured sects and heresies, that fight under his banner
against me, and not call him and his troops all to nought !'
BEDELL. 215
And this is my poor opinion concerning our dealing with
the papists themselves, perchance differing from men of
great note in Christ's family, Mr Luther, and Mr Calvin.
and others ; but yet we must live by rules, not examples ;
and they were men, who perhaps by complexion or other-
wise were given too much to anger and heat." He la-
boured to convert the more respectable of the popish
clergy, and in this he had great success. He procured a
translation of the Common Prayer into Irish, and caused
it to be read in his cathedral every Sunday. The new
testament had also been translated by William Daniel,
archbishop of Tuam, and at the bishop s desire, the old
testament was first translated into the same language by
Mr King; but as King was ignorant of the original tongue,
and did it from the English, Bedell himself revised and
compared it with the Hebrew, and the best translations.
He took care likewise to have some of St Chrysostom's
and Leo's homilies in commendation of the Scriptures,
translated both into English and into Irish, that the
common people might see, that in the opinion of the
ancient fathers, they had not only a right to read the
Scriptures as well as the clergy, but that it was their duty
so to do. When he found the work was finished, he re-
solved to be at the expense of printing it, but his design
was interrupted by a cruel and unjust prosecution carried
on against the translator, who not only lost his living, but
was also attacked in his character. The bishop supported
Mr King as far as he was able, and the translation being
finished, he would have had it printed in his own house,
if the troubles of Ireland had not prevented it ; it hap-
pened fortunately, however, that the translation escaped
the hands of the rebels, and was afterwards printed at
the expense of Mr Robert Boyle. The bishop always
desired to make proselytes by persuasion, and not compul-
sion ; and it was his opinion, that protestants would agree
better, if they could be brought to understand each other.
There were some Lutherans at Dublin, who, for not coming
to church and taking the Holy Sacrament, were cited into
216 BEDELL.
the archbishop's consistory, upon which they desired time
to write to their divines in Germany, which was granted ;
and when their answers came, they contained some excep-
tions to the doctrines of the Church, as not explaining the
real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, with sufficient
accuracy : to which bishop Bedell wrote an answer, and
the German theologians, who saw it, advised their coun-
trymen to join in communion with the Church, which they
accordingly did.
When the rebellion broke out in Ireland, in October,
1641, the bishop at first did not feel the violence of
its effects, for even the rebels and dissenters had con-
ceived a great veneration for him, and they declared
he should be the last Englishman they would drive
out of Ireland. His was the only house in the county
of Cavan that was unviolated, and it was filled with
the people who fled to him for shelter. About the
middle of December, however, the rebels, pursuant
to orders received from their council of state at Kil-
kenny, required him to dismiss the people that were
with him, which he refused to do, declaring he would
share the same fate with the rest. Upon this they seized
him, his two sons, and Mr Clogy, who had married his
daughter-in-law, and carried them prisoners to the castle
of Cloughboughter, surrounded by a deep water, where
they put them all, except the bishop, in irons ; the bishop,
however, ceased not to give spiritual consolation to those
with him, and on Christmas-day administered the Holy
Communion to them in prison. After being confined for
about three weeks, the bishop and his two sons, and Mr
Clogy, were exchanged for two of the O'Rourkes; but though
it was agreed that they should be safely conducted to
Dublin, yet the rebels would not suffer them to be carried
out of the country, but sent them to the house of Denis
O'Sheriden. The bishop died soon after he came here,
on the 7th of February, 1611, his death being chiefly
occasioned by his late imprisonment and the weight of
sorrows which lay upon his mind. Nearly all his writings
BEDFORD. 217
perished in the rebellion. In 1713 there was printed a
poem written by him in the style of Spenser, entitled, A
Protestant Memorial, or the Shepherd's Tale of the Powder
Plot. It was printed from a manuscript found in the
library of Dr Dillingham; and in 1742 there were pub-
lished at Dublin some original letters concerning the steps
taken towards a reformation of religion in Venice, on the
quarrel between that state and pope Paul the Fifth. —
Burnet's Life of Bedell. Boyle s Works.
Bedford, Arthur, was born at Tiddenham in Glou-
cestershire, in 1668. At the age of sixteen he became a
commoner of Brazenose-college, Oxford, where he took his
masters degree in 1691. The year following he was pre-
sented to the vicarage of Temple Church, Bristol, from
whence some years afterwards he removed to Newton St
Loe in Somersetshire ; but in 1724 he was chosen chaplain
to the Haberdasher's Hospital, London, where he died in
1745. His works are — 1. Serious Pieflections on the abuse
of the Stage, 8vo. This was followed by some other tracts
on the same subject. 2. The Temple of Music, 8vo. 3.
The great Abuse of Music, 8vo. 4. An Essay on singing
David's Psalms, 8vo. 5. Animadversions on Sir Isaac
Newton's Chronology, 8vo. 1728. 6. A Sermon at St
Botolph's, Aldgate, against Stage-plays, 1730, 8vo. 7. Ob-
servations on a Sermon preached by the Rev. A. S. Catcott,
before the Corporation of Bristol, 8vo. 1736. 8. An Ex-
amination of Mr Hutchinson's Remarks, and Mr Catcott's
Answer to the Observations, &c. 8vo. 1738. 9. Scripture
Chronology, folio, 1741. 10. Eight Sermons on the Doc-
trine of the Trinity, at Lady Mover's Lecture, 8vo. 1740.
11. The Doctrine of Justification by Faith stated, 8vo,
1741. 12. Hora3 Mathematics vacuas, or a Treatise on
the Golden and Ecliptic Numbers, 8vo. 1743. — Ellis 's
Hist, of Shoreditch. Republic of Letters.
Bedford, Hilkiah, was born in London in 1663, and
VOL. IT. t
ns BEHMEX
educated at St John's college, Cambridge, on the foun-
dation of Mr Plat, his maternal grandfather. He after-
wards obtained a fellowship, took his degree in arts,
and, on taking orders, was presented to a living in
Lincolnshire, of which he was deprived at the Revo-
lution for refusing to take the oaths of allegiance to
the prince of Orange, when he had the honour of be-
coming chaplain to bishop Ken. He then kept a board-
ing-house for the Westminster scholars ; but in 1714
he was sentenced to three years' imprisonment and a
heavy fine for publishing the Hereditary Right of the
Crown of England asserted, the real author of which was
George Harbin. Mr Bedford translated an answer to
Fontenelle's History of Oracles, and Dr Barwick s Life,
into English. He died in 1734. — Nichols's Literary Anec-
dotes. Coles MSS. Athena in Brit. Mus.
Bedford, Thomas, the son of Hilkiah Bedford, was
educated at Westminster school, from whence he removed
to St John's college, Cambridge, but never took any
degree on account of his attachment to the nonjurors,
among whom he exercised the ministry at Compton in
Derbyshire, where he died in 1773. He was at one time
chaplain in the family of Sir John Cotton, Bart., with
whom he sojourned at Angers in France. He published,
in 1732, Simeonis monachi Dunelmensis libellus de
exordio atque procursu Dunelmensis ecclesise, 8vo. He
also wrote an historical Catechism, 8vo. 1712. — Nichols's
Life of Bomjer.
Behmen, or Bozhmen, Jacob, designated by his admirers
as the German theosophist, was born near Gorlitz, in Upper
Lusatia, in 1575. He was a shoemaker by trade, and being
of a serious turn of mind, employed his leisure hours in
reading religious books, besides which he studied alchemy.
In 1612 he published a treatise entitled " Aurora ; or, The
Rising of the Sun," which gave such offence to George
BEHMEN. 210
Richter, dean of Gorlitz, that he complained of it to the
magistrates, who commanded Jacob to leave off writing,
and stick to his last. He obeyed, and was silent for seven
years, when his reputation as a practical chemist gave him
encouragement to renew his theological revelations, and
during the remaining five years of his life he wrote above
twenty books, the best of which was "A Table of his
Principles ; or, A Key to his Works." Of Behmen, the
following is the account given by Mosheim : " He had a
natural propensity towards the investigation of mysteries,
and was fond of abstruse and intricate inquiries of every
kind ; and having, partly by books and partly by conversa-
tion with certain physicians, acquired some knowledge of
the doctrine of Robert Fludd and the Pcosicracians, which
was propagated in Germany with great ostentation during
this century, he struck out of the element of fire, by the
succours of imagination, a species of theology much more
obscure than the numbers of Pythagoras, or the intricacies
of Heraclitus. Some have bestowed high praises on this
enthusiast, on account of his piety, integrity, and sincere
love of truth and virtue ; and we shall not pretend to con-
tradict these encomiums. But such as carry their admi-
ration of his doctrine so far as to honour him with the
character of an inspired messenger of heaven, or even of
a judicious and wise philosopher, must be themselves
deceived and blinded in a very high degree ; for never did
there reign such obscurity and confusion in the writings
of any mortal, as in the miserable productions of Jacob
Behmen, which exhibit a motley mixture of chemical
terms, crude visions, and mystic jargon. Among other
dreams of a disturbed and eccentric fancy, he entertained
the following chimerical notions : ' That the divine grace
operates by the same rules, and follows the same methods,
that the divine providence observes in the natural world :
and that the minds of men are purged from their vices and
corruptions in the same way that metals are purified from
their dross ;' and this maxim was the principle of his fire
theology. He died at Gorlitz, in 1623. His works were
220 BELL.
printed at Amsterdam in 1730, under the title of Theo-so-
phia Revelata. Whatever may have been the errors and
eccentricities of Behmen's genius, there must be more of
depth in his system than his opponents seem willing to
admit, since it was able to bring into captivity such a
mind as that of William Law, who employed the last
years of his life in preparing a new edition, with a trans-
lation, of Behmen's works, which appeared after his death
in two vols 4to. According to Dr Henry More the sect of
the quakers have borrowed many of their doctrines from
Behmen. — Life by Okeley. Mosheim.
Bell, William, was Educated at Magdalen college,
Cambridge, at which university he obtained several prizes.
He is entitled to the grateful regard of his alma mater
for having established eight scholarships for the orphan
sons of poor clergymen. Before his demise he had trans-
ferred £15,200, in the three per cents to the university
for this object. His other charities were very considerable.
He died in 1816 a prebendary of Westminster. He pub-
lished some works, but they were of little value, and are
now forgotten. — Gentlemen s Magazine.
Bell, Andrew, was born at St Andrews in 1753, and
in 1789 became chaplain to Fort St George, at Madras.
He there introduced a system of education relating to the
management of classes, which was subsequently adopted
in the National Society for the education of the poor. It
has been much modified, but is very far still from being
what religious persons would desire. A dissenter, named
Lancaster, contended with Dr Bell for the honour of
having originated the plan ; but the general current of
opinion, as well as documentary evidence, awards the
honour, such as it is, of its introduction, to Dr Bell.
Dr Bell was a prebendary of Westminster, and master of
Sherborn hospital, Durham. He died in 1832. He had
amassed an immense fortune, and left £120,000 in sup-
BELLARMINE. 221
port of national institutions and public charities. — Annual
Biography.
Bellarmine, Robert, was born at Monte-Puluano in
Tuscany, October 4th, 154-2; his mother was sister to pope
Marcellus II. He became a Jesuit in 1560, at the period
when the members of that order were exerting themselves
to the utmost to paralyze the reformation ; and his con-
nection with that order gave the direction to his extra-
ordinary controversial talents. Such was the lead which
he took as a controversialist, that it was at him especially
that the most eminent protestant polemics directed their
attacks ; and by so doing they proclaimed him to be what
the more timid or more violent of his own communion
were slow to admit, the most able and judicious advocate
of the Romish cause. Although his prejudices as a Ro-
manist frequently obscured his vision of the truth, yet his
candour is admitted by all parties : — by papists, who com-
plained that he exposed their weak points ; and by protest-
ants, who insinuated that he must in secret have inclined
to their own opinions. His treatise de Romano Pontifico
was condemned by pope Sextus V. as injurious to the
Roman see, because he referred the papal authority to an
indirect rather than a direct grant of Christ; and yet;
though falling under the censure of the more violent parti*
zans o.v" papal pretensions, his assertions with respect to
papal power were regarded in France as ultra-montane?
and his treatise against Barclay was condemned in L610
by the parliament of Paris. Under the assumed name of
Matthew Tortus he attacked king James ; when he found
in bishop Andrewes, who came forward to vindicate the
king, an opponent very different from those with whom
he had usually to contend, and he must have learned
from him that there is a catholic via media between
Romanism on the one hand and mere protestantism on
the other.
But Bellarmine was not merely a controversialist ; he
t 2
aaa bellarmine.
was distinguished also for his eloquence as a preacher, and
indeed such were his powers in this respect, that he re-
ceived a license to preach, before he had arrived at the
canonical age. Having exerted himself as a preacher in
Italy, he proceeded afterwards to Flanders, and in 1569
was ordained priest at Ghent, by the celebrated Cornelius
Jansen ; in the year following he had the honour of being
the first Jesuit who had ever been appointed professor of
theology in the university of Louvain. Here his lectures
were attended, and his sermons admired not only by
Romanists, but even by protestants.
After having lived seven years in the Low Countries, he
returned to Italy, and in 1576, began to read lectures at
Rome on points of controversy. This he did with so much
applause, that Sixtus V. appointed him to accompany his
legate into France, in 1590, as a person who might be of
great service, in case of any demand for controversial eru-
dition. He returned to Rome about ten months after,
where he had several offices conferred on him by his own
society as well as by the pope, and in the year 1599, was
created a cardinal. Three years after he had the arch-
bishopric of Capua conferred upon him, which he resigned
in 1605, when the pope, Paul V. desired to keep him near
his person, his conscience not permitting him to keep a
church upon which he could not reside. He was employed
in the affairs of the court of Rome, till the year 1621,
when, finding himself declining in health, he left the
Vatican, and retired to the house belonging to the noviciate
of the Jesuits of St Andrew, where he died the 17th of
September, 1621. It appeared on the day of his funeral,
that he was regarded as a saint. The Swiss guards be-
longing to the pope, were placed round his coffin, in order
to keep off the crowd, which pressed to touch and kiss the
body : and every thing he made use of was carried away,
as a venerable relic.
At the end of the century it was proposed in the court
of Rome to canonize him, and informations were taken
BENEDICT. 223
according to custom to make proof of his sanctity ; which
having been reported to the congregration of cardinals
and consultors on the 7th of July, 1677, of seventeen
cardinals, ten voted for his canonization, while the rest
thought the proofs insufficient, and of nineteen consultors,
sixteen were for his beatification, and three of a contrary
opinion.
Such a proceeding is justly offensive to those who hold
Catholic as distinguished from Romish principles. — Dupin.
Moreri. Butler. Alegambe BibUoth. Script. Soc.
Belsham, Thomas, was born in 1750, at Bedford, where
his father was a dissenting preacher of the presbyterian
persuasion. From Calvinism Belsham passed on to
socinianism. He contended resolutely for the principle
that the Bible and the Bible only, interpreted according to
each man's private judgment, is the religion of protestants;
and according to his private judgment, the Bible taught
what he called unitarianism. He was elected in 1794 by
a congregation at Hackney, to preach to them, and he con-
tinued to be their preacher till 1805, when he went to the
meeting-house in Essex-street, London. He died in 1829.
He was principally concerned in what his party called the
improved version of the New Testament, which was pub-
lished in 1808 ; a work prepared by persons so deficient
in scholarship, as to have been discreditable to the society
under whose auspices it was published. Among those
who maintained the right of private judgment, as among
the " unitarians" generally, Belsham held during the end
of the last, and the beginning of the present century, a
distinguished place. — Annual Biog.
Benedict, Saint, was born in 480, in the duchy of
Spoleto, and was educated at Rome. Disgusted by the
dissipation of his fellow students at Rome, he retired to the
desert of Subiaco, about forty miles from that city, where,
concealed in a cave, he was supplied with food by a hermit
named Romanus, who used to descend to him by a rope.
224 BENEDICT.
This life he pursued for three years, during which time
he employed himself in giving instructions to the shep-
herds who frequented the neighbourhood, and at length
was chosen by the monks of a neighbouring monastery to
be their abbot. Here his severity and asceticism caused
such dissatisfaction, that it is said that the monks attempt-
ed to poison him ; indeed the Romish legends assert that
he was only saved by a miracle. At all events, he thought
fit to retire from his post, and on returning to his solitude,
was followed by many persons, who placed themselves
under his direction, and in a short time he was able to
erect twelve monasteries, each containing twelve monks,
and all being under his direction. The monasteries of
the west had adopted a very lax rule, and Benedict was
determined to introduce a strict one. But he met with
much opposition from a faction headed by a neighbouring
clergyman. In all ages the attempt to lead a strict and
ascetic life has been met by the fierce opposition of those
who think themselves injured if others endeavour to lead
a more evangelical life than they : and such was the
opposition to which Benedict was exposed, that in 528 he
and his monks were obliged to remove from Subiaco. He
retired to Monte Cassino, where idolatry still prevailed,
and a temple stood to Apollo. He converted the people,
destroyed the image of Apollo, and erected two chapels on
the mountain. Here also he founded a monastery, which
became the model for all the monasteries of Western
Europe. It was here too that he composed his " Regula
Monachorum,"' of which Gregory the great, speaks in
terms of high approbation. We are indebted to Mr Mait-
land for the following translation of the prologue and the
fourth chapter : —
" Hear, 0 my son, the precepts of a master; and incline
the ear of thine heart ; and cheerfully receive, and affec-
tually fulfil, the admonition of an affectionate father ; that,
by the labour of obedience, thou mayest return to him,
from whom thou hast departed by the sloth of disobedi-
ence. To thee therefore my discourse is now directed —
BENEDICT. 225
whosoever, renouncing the desires of self, and about to
serve as a soldier of the Lord Christ, the true King,
dost assume the most powerful and noble arms of
obedience.
" In the first place, you must, with most urgent prayer,
entreat that whatsoever good thing you take in hand, may
thr ugh Him be brought to completion ; that He who hath
condescended now to reckon us in the number of His
sons, may not be obliged to grieve over our ill conduct.
For He is ever to be served by us, with those good things
which are His own; so served by us as that not only He
may not, as an angry father, disinherit his sons, — but
that He may not, as a master who is to be feared, be so
incensed by our sins, as to deliver over to eternal punish-
ment, as most wicked servants, those who would not follow
Him to glory.
" Let us, however, at length arise ; for the Scripture
arouses us, saying, ' That now it is high time to awake
out of sleep;' and, our eyes being opened to the divine
light, let us hear with astonished ears the voice which
every day admonishes us, ' To day if ye will hear his
voice, harden not your hearts ;' and again, ■ He that hath
ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the
churches;' and what saith He? 'Come, ye children,
hearken unto me : I will teach you the fear of the Lord' —
' Run while ye have the light of life, lest the darkness of
death overtake you.'
•• And the Lord, seeking for his workman among the
multitude of the people, whom He thus addresses, saith
again, { What man is he that desireth life, and will see
good days'?' And if when you hear this you answer ' I,'
God saith unto you, ' If thou wilt have life, keep thy
tongue from evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile.
Depart from evil, and do good ; seek peace and pursue it.'
And when you shall have done this, ' My eyes are upon
you, and My ears are towards your prayers ; and before ye
call upon Me I will say ur.to you ' Here am I.' " Most
dear brethren, what is sweeter than this voice of the Lord
'226 BENEDICT.
inviting us ? Behold, in His mercy, the Lord points out
to us the way of life.
" Our loins therefore being girded, and our feet shod
with faith and the observance of good works, let us, under
the guidance of the gospel, go forth on His ways, that we
may be counted worthy to see Him who hath called us, in
His kingdom. In the tabernacle of Whose kingdom, if we
desire to dwell, we can by no means attain our desire,
except by running in the way of good works. But let us
inquire of the Lord with the prophet, and say unto Him,
1 Lord, who shall dwell in Thy tabernacle, and who shall
rest in Thy holy mountain ? After this inquiry, brethren,
let us hear the Lord replying, and shewing us the way of
His tabernacle, and saying, ' He that walketh uprightly,
and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his
heart ; he that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth
evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his
neighbour.' Who turning away the eyes of his heart from
the wicked Devil who tempts him, and from his tempta-
tion, hath brought him to nought, and hath taken the
young thoughts which he hath bred and dashed them to
pieces on Christ. Who, fearing the Lord, are not puffed
up by their good works ; but who, considering that those
good things which are in them could not be wrought by
themselves, but by the Lord, magnify the Lord who work-
eth in them, saying with the prophet, ' Not unto us, O
Lord, not unto us, but unto Thy name give glory.' Like
as the apostle Paul reckoned nothing of his preaching,
saying, ' By the grace of God I am what I am ;' and
again he says, 5 He that glorifieth let him glory in the
Lord.'
" Hence also it is, that our Lord saith in the gospel,
• Whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth
them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his
house upon a rock : and the floods came, and the winds
blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not; for it was
founded upon a rock.' While the Lord does all this, He
expects every day that we should respond to His holy
BENEDICT. 227
admonitions, by our actions. Therefore it is, that the
days of this life are extended as a respite for the emenda-
tion of what is evil ; as the apostle says, ' Knowest thou
not that the long suffering of God leadeth thee to repent-
ance?' For the merciful God hath said, "I desire not
the death of a sinner, but that he should be converted
and live.'
" When therefore, my brethren, we inquire of the Lord,
' who shall abide in Thy tabernacle ?' we thus hear the
rule of habitation ; and if we fulfil the duty of an inhabit-
ant, we shall be heirs of the kingdom of heaven. There-
fore our hearts and bodies are to be prepared to go forth
to"the warfare of holy obedience to the commandments ;
and, because it is impossible to our nature, let us ask the
Lord of His grace that He would assist us with His help.
And if, flying from the pains of hell, we desire to obtain
eternal life, while yet there is opportunity and we are in
this body, and space is afforded to fulfil all these things
by this life of light, we must now run and labour for that
which shall profit us for ever.
" We must, therefore, institute a school of service to the
Lord ; in which institution we trust that we shall appoint
nothing harsh or burdensome. If, however, anything a
little severe should, on reasonable grounds of equity, be
enjoined for the correction of vices, and the preservation
of charity, do not in sudden alarm fly from the way of
safety, which can only be begun by a narrow entrance.
In the progress, however, of our conversation and faith,
the heart being enlarged with the ineffable sweetness of
love, we run the way of God's commandments, so that
never departing from His governance, remaining under His
teaching in the monastery until death, we through patience
are partakers of Christ's sufferings, that we may be counted
worthy to be partakers of His kingdom."
The first chapter of the rule is on various kinds of
monks — the second, on the qualifications and duties of
an abbot — the third, on the duty of the abbot to take
counsel with the brethren — and the fourth is headed,
228 BENEDICT.
" Quae sint instrumenta bonomm operum." This title
has given some trouble to commentators ; and the reader
may translate it as he pleases. " It is not my business,"
says Mr Maitland, "to criticise it, especially as the chapter
itself is intelligible enough. It contains seventy-two brief
injunctions, from whence we may form some general
opinion as to what those who bound themselves by this
rule did, and did not, undertake. Most of the other
seventy- two chapters of the rule consist of regulations
respecting the organization and management of their
society, which would, of course, occupy the most room ;
but it seems to me that this one chapter should at least
qualify the statements of those who profess to have found
nothing but a body of heartless forms.
" 1. In the first place, to love the Lord God with the
whole heart, whole soul, whole strength. 2. Then his
neighbour as himself. 3. Then not to kill. 4. Then not
to commit adultery. 5, Not to steal. 6. Not to covet.
7. Not to bear false witness. 8. To honour all men.
9. And what any one would not have done to him, let him
not do to another. 10. To deny himself, that he may fol-
low Christ. 11. To chasten the body. 12. To renounce
luxuries. 13. To love fasting. 14. To relieve the poor.
15. To clothe the naked. 16. To visit the sick. 17. To
bury the dead. 18. To help in tribulation. 19. To con-
sole the afflicted. 20. To disengage himself from worldly
affairs. 21. To set the love of Christ before all other
things. 22. Not to give way to anger. 23. Not to bear
any grudge. 24. Not to harbour deceit in the heart.
25. Not to make false peace. 26. Not to forsake charity.
27. Not to swear, lest haply he perjure himself. 28. To
utter truth from his heart and his mouth. 29. Not to
return evil for evil. 30. Not to do injuries; and to bear
them patiently. 31. To love his enemies. 32. Not to
curse again those who curse him ; but rather to bless
them. 33. To endure persecutions for righteousness' sake.
34. Not to be proud. 35. Not given to wine. 36. Not
gluttonous. 37. Not addicted to sleep. 38. Not sluggish.
BENEDICT. 229
39. Not given to murmur. 40. Not a slanderer. 41. To
commit his hope to God. 4 2. When he sees any thing
good in himself, to attribute it to God, and not to himsel f.
43. But let him always know, that which is evil in his
own doing, and impute it to himself. 44. To fear the day
of judgment. 45. To dread Hell. 46. To desire eternal
life, with all spiritual longing. 47. To have the expecta-
tion of death every day before his eyes. 48. To watch
over his actions at all times. 49. To know certainly that,
in all places, the eye of God is upon him. 50. Those evil
thoughts which come into his heart immediately to dash
to pieces on Christ. 51. And to make them known to his
spiritual senior. 5 '2. To keep his lips from evil and
wicked discourse. 53. Not to be fond of much talking.
54. Not to speak vain words, or such as provoke laughter.
55. Not to love much or violent laughter. 56. To give
willing attention to the sacred readings. 57. To pray
frequently. 58. Every day to confess his past sins to
God, in prayer, with tears and groaning ; from thence-
forward to reform as to those sins. 59. Not to fulfil the
desires of the flesh ; to hate self-will. 60. In all things to
obey the commands of the abbot, even though he himself
(which God forbid) should do otherwise ; remembering our
Lord's command, ' What they say, do ; but what they do,
do ye not.' 61. Not to desire to be called a saint before
he is one, but first to be one that he may be truly called
one. 62. Every day to fulfil the commands of God in
action. 63. To love chastity. 64. To hate nobody.
65. To have no jealousy; to indulge no envy. 66. Not
to love contention. 67. To avoid self-conceit. 68. To
reverence seniors. 69. To love juniors. 70. To pray for
enemies, in the love of Christ. 71. After a disagreement,
to be reconciled before the going down of the sun.
72. And never to despair of the mercy of God."
These rules have given rise to many disputes among the
disciples of St Benedict, which are of no interest to the
general reader or ordinary Christian.
VOL. II. u
•230 BENEDICT BISCOP.
The date of his death is differently given by ancient
writers : by some it is placed as early as 542, by others as
late as 547. — Mabillon. Moreri. Fosbrook. Maitland.
Benedict, Biscop, was born about the year 628, being
descended frem a noble lineage of the Angles, and as Bede
pleasantly remarks, "being by corresponding dignity of
mind worthy to be exalted into the company of angels.''''
This article will be taken entirely from venerable Bede's
Vita Beatorum Abbatum Bede informs us that Benedict
Biscop was the minister of Oswy king of Northumbria,
and by his gift enjoyed an estate suitable to his rank ;
but at the age of twenty-five, he relinquished a secular
life and made a journey to Rome, the capital at that
time of the civilized world. On his return home he
exerted himself to establish among his own countrymen
the precepts of ecclesiastical life, which he had seen and
admired in Italy. In 665 he made a second journey to
Rome, and after some months went to the island of Lerins,
where he became an inmate of the monastery, and was
regularly initiated into all the requirements of conventual
life. From Lerins he once more returned to Rome, which
he reached at an important juncture : " at that time," says
the venerable Bede, " Egbert, king of Kent, had sent out of
Britain a man who had been elected to the office of bishop,
Wighard by name, who had been adequately taught by the
Roman disciples of the blessed pope Gregory in Kent on
every topic of Church discipline ; but the king wished him
to be ordained bishop at Rome, in order that, having him
for bishop of his own nation and language, he might him-
self, as well as his people, be the more thoroughly master
of the words and mysteries of the holy faith ; as he would
then have these administered, not through an interpreter,
but from the hands and by the tongue of a kinsman and
fellow-countryman. But Wighard, on coming to Rome
died of a disease, with all his attendants, before he
had received the dignity of bishop. Now the pope,
BENEDICT BISCOP. 231
that the embassy of the faithful might not fail through
the death of their ambassadors, called a council, and
appointed one of his Church to send as archbishop into
Britain. This was Theodore, a man deep in all secu-
lar and ecclesiastical learning, whether Greek or Latin ;
and to him was given, as a colleague and counsellor, a
man equally strenuous and prudent, the abbot Hadrian.
Perceiving also that the reverend Benedict would become
a man of wisdom, industry, piety, and nobility of mind,
he committed to him the newly ordained bishop, with his
followers, enjoining him to abandon the travel which he
had undertaken for Christ's sake ; and with a higher good
in view, to return home to his country, and bring into it
that teacher of wisdom whom it had so earnestly wished
for, and to be to him an interpreter and guide, both on the
journey thither, and afterwards, upon his arrival, when he
should begin to preach. Benedict did as he was com-
manded ; they came to Kent, and were joyfully received
there ; Theodore ascended his episcopal throne, and
Benedict took upon himself to rule the monastery of the
blessed apostle Peter, of which, afterwards, Hadrian be-
came abbot.
He ruled the monastery for two years ; and then suc-
cessfully, as before, accomplished a third voyage from
Britain to Piome, and brought back a large number of
books on sacred literature, which he had either bought at
a price or received as gifts from his friends. On his
return he arrived at Vienne, where he took possession of
such as he had entrusted his friends to purchase for him.
When he had come home, he determined to go to the
court of Conwalh, king of the West Saxons, whose friend-
ship and services he had already more than once expe-
rienced. But Conwalh died suddenly about this time, and
he therefore directed his course to his native province.
He came to the court of Egfrid, king of Northumberland,
and gave an account of all that he had done since in youth
he had left his country. He made no secret of his zeal
for religion, and showed what ecclesiastical or monastic
232 BENEDICT BISCOP.
instructions he had received at Rome and elsewhere. He
displayed the holy volumes and relics of Christ's blessed
apostles and martyrs, which he had brought, and found
such favour in the eyes of the king, that he forthwith gave
him seventy hides of land out of his own estates, and
ordered a monastery to be built thereon for the first pastor
of his church. This was done at the mouth of the river
Were, on the left bank, in the 674th year of our Lord's
incarnation, in the second indiction, and in the fourth
year of king Egfrid's reign.
After the interval of a year, Benedict crossed the sea
into Gaul, and no sooner asked than he obtained and
carried back with him some masons to build him a church
in the Roman style, which he had always admired. So
much zeal did he show from his love to Saint Peter, in
whose honour he was building it, that within a year from
the time of laying the foundation, you might have seen
the roof on and the solemnity of the mass Celebrated
therein. When the work was drawing to completion, he
sent messengers to Gaul to fetch makers of glass, (more
properly artificers,) which was at this time unknown in
Britain, that they might glaze the windows of his church,
with the cloisters and dining rooms. This was done, and
they came, and not only finished the work required, but
taught the English nation their handicraft, which was well
adapted for enclosing the lanterns of the church, and for
the vessels required for various uses. All other things neces-
sary for the service of the church and the altar, the sacred
vessels, and the vestments, because they could not be pro-
cured in England, he took especial care to buy and bring
home from foreign parts.
" Some decorations and muniments there were, which
could not be procured even in Gaul, and these the pious
founder determined to fetch from Rome ; for which pur-
pose, after he had formed the rule for his monastery, he
made his fourth voyage to Rome, and returned loaded
with more abundant spiritual merchandise than before.
In the first place, he brought back a large quantity of
BENEDICT BISCOP. 233
books of all kinds ; secondly, a great number of relics of
Christ's apostles and martyrs, all likely to bring a bless-
ing on many an English church; thirdly, he introduced
the Roman mode of chanting, singing, and ministering in
the church, by obtaining permission from pope Agatho to
take back with him John, the arch-chanter of the church
of St Peter, and abbot of the monastery of St Martin, to
teach the English. This John, when he arrived in
England, not only communicated instruction by teaching
personally, but left behind him numerous writings, which
are still preserved in the library of the same monastery.
In the fourth place, Benedict brought with him a thing by
no means to be despised, namely, a letter of privilege from
pope Agatho, which he had procured, not only with the con-
sent, but by the request and exhortation, of king Egfrid, and
by which the monastery was rendered safe and secure for
ever from foreign invasion. Fifthly, he brought with him
pictures of sacred representations, to adorn the church of
St Peter, which he had built ; namely, a likeness of the
Virgin Mary and of the twelve apostles, with which he
intended to adorn the central nave, on boarding placed
from one wall to the other ; also some figures from eccles-
iastical history for the south wall, and others from the
Revelation of St John for the north wall ; so that every
one who entered the church, even if they could not read,
wherever they turned their eyes, might have before them
the amiable countenance of Christ and his saints, though
it were but in a picture, and with watchful minds might
revolve on the benefits of our Lord's incarnation, and
having before their eyes the perils of the last judgmeDt,
might examine their hearts the more strictly on that
account.
In 682 he received a further donation of land from
Egfrid, and upon this new estate he built the monastery
of Jarrow, and placed therein seventeen monks under an
abbot named Ceolfrid. About the same time he appointed
a presbyter, Easterwine, to be joint abbot with himself of
v 2
234 BENEDICT BISCOP.
St Peter's monasteiy, at Weremouth, that, with the help
of this fellow soldier, he might sustain a burden otherwise
too heavy for him. Soon after this he took his fifth and
last journey to Rome, and as before, came back enriched
with a further supply of ecclesiastical books and pictures,
He brought with him, says Bede, pictures of the
saints, as numerous as before. He also brought with him
pictures out of our Lord's history, which he hung round
the chapel of our Lady in the larger monastery; and
others to adorn St Paul's church and monastery, ably
describing the connexion of the Old and New Testament :
as, for instance, Isaac bearing the wood for his own
sacrifice, and Christ carrying the cross on which he was
about to suffer, were placed side by side. Again, the
serpent raised up by Moses in the desert was illustrated
by the Son of Man exalted on the cross. Among other
things, he brought two cloaks, all of silk, and of incom-
parable workmanship, for which he received an estate of
three hides on the south bank of the river Were, near
its mouth, from king Alfrid, for he found on his return
that Egfrid had been murdered during his absence.
But, amid this prosperity, he found afflictions also
awaiting his return. The venerable Easterwine, whom
he had made abbot when he departed, and many of the
brethren committed to his care, had died of a general
pestilencei But for this loss he found some consolation in
the good and reverend deacon, Sigfrid, whom the brethren
and his co-abbot Ceolfrid had chosen to be his successor.
He was a man well skilled in the knowledge of Holy
Scripture, of most excellent manners, of wonderful con-
tinence, and one in whom the virtues of the mind were
in no small degree depressed by bodily infirmity, and the
innocency of whose heart was tempered with a baneful
and incurable affection of the lungs.
Not long after, Benedict himself was seized by a
disease. For, that the virtue of patience might be a
trial of their religious zeal, the Divine Love laid both of
BENEDICT BISCOP. 235
them on the bed of temporal sickness, that when
they had conquered their sorrows by death, He might
cherish them for ever in heavenly peace and quietude.
Benedict died of a palsy, which grew upon him for three
whole years ; so that when he was dead in all his lower
extremities, his upper and vital members, spared to show
his patience and virtue, were employed in the midst of
his Bufferings in giving thanks to the Author of his being,
in praises to God, and exhortations to the brethren. He
urged the brethren, when they came to see him, to observe
the rule which he had given then. 'For,' said he, 'you
cannot suppose that it was my own untaught heart which
dictated this rule to you. I learnt it from seventeen
monasteries, which I saw during my travels, and most
approved of, and I copied these institutions thence for
your benefit.' The large and noble library, which he had
brought from Rome, and which was necessary for the
edification of his church, he commanded to be kept entire,
and neither by neglect to be injured or dispersed. But
on one point he was most solicitous, in choosing an abbot,
lest high birth, and not rather probity of life and doctrine,
should be attended to. 'And I tell you of a truth,' said
he, ' in the choice of two evils, it would be much more
tolerable for me, if God so pleased, that this place, where-
in I have built the monastery, should for ever become a
desert, than that any carnal brother, who, as we know,
walks not in the way of truth, should become abbot, and
succeed me in its government. Wherefore, my brethren,
beware, and never choose an abbot on account of his birth,
nor from any foreign place ; but seek out, according to the
rule of abbot Benedict the Great, and the decrees of our
order, with common consent, from amongst your own
company, whoever in virtue of life and wisdom of doctrine
may be found fittest for this office ; and whomsoever you
shall, by this unamious inquiry of Christian charity, prefer
and choose, let him be made abbot, with the customary
blessings, in the presence of the bishop. For those who
after the flesh beget children of the flesh, must necessarily
236 BENEDICT BISCOP.
seek fleshly and earthly heirs to their fleshly and earthly
inheritance ; but those who by the spiritual seed of the
Word procreate spiritual sons to God, must of like neces-
sity be spiritual in every thing that they do. Among their
spiritual children, they think him the greatest who is
possessed of the most abundant grace of the Spirit, in
the same way as earthly parents consider their eldest as
the principal one of their children, and prefer him to the
others in dividing out their inheritance.'
Nor must we, says Bede, omit to mention that the
venerable abbot Benedict, to lessen the wearisomenessof the
night, which from his illnes he often passed without sleep-
ing, would frequently call a reader, and cause him to read
aloud, as an example for himself, the history of the patience
of Job, or some other extract from Scripture, by which his
pains might be alleviated, and his depressed soul be raised
to heavenly things. And because he could not get up to
pray, nor without difficulty lift up his voice to the usual
extent of daily psalmody, the prudent man, in his zeal for
religion, at every hour of daily or nightly prayer would
call to him some of the brethren, and making them
sing psalms in two companies, would himself sing with
them, arid thus make up by their voices for the deficiency
of his own.
Now both the abbots saw that they were near death, and
unfit longer to rule the monastery, from increasing weak-
ness, which, though tending no doubt to the perfection of
Christian purity, was so great, that, when they expressed
a desire to see one another before they died, and Sigfrid
was brought in a litter into the room where Benedict was
lying od his bed, though they were placed by the attend
ants with their heads on the same pillow, they had not
the power of their own strength to kiss one another, but
were assisted even in this act of fraternal love. After
taking counsel with Sigfrid and the other brethren,
Benedict sent for Ceolfrid, abbot of St Paul's, dear to him
not by relationship of the flesh, but by the ties of Christian
virtue, and with the consent and approbation of all, made
BENEDICT. 237
him abbot of both monasteries ; thinking it expedient in
every respect to preserve peace, unity, and concord between
the two, if they should have one father and ruler for ever,
after the example of the kingdom of Israel, which always
remained invincible and inviolate by foreign nations as
long as it was ruled by one and the same govenor of its
own race ; but when for its former sins it was torn into
opposing factions, it fell by degrees, and, thus shorn of
its ancient integrity, perished. He reminded them also
of that evangelical maxim, ever worthy to be remem-
bered,— ' A kingdom divided against itself shall be laid
waste.'
Two months after this, God's chosen servant, the
venerable abbot Sigfrid, having passed through the fire
and water of temporal tribulation, was carried to the rest-
ing-place of everlasting repose : he entered the mansion
of the heavenly kingdom, rendering up whole offerings of
praise to the Lord which his righteous lips had vowed ;
and after another space of four months, Benedict, who so
nobly vanquished sin and wrought the deeds of virtue,
yielded to the weakness of the flesh, and came to his end.
Night came on chilled by the winter's blasts, but a day of
eternal felicity succeeded, of serenity and of splendour.
The brethren met together at the church, and passed the
night without sleep iD praying and singing, consoling
their sorrow for their father's departure by one continued
outpouring of praise.
His death occurred on the ] 4th of January, 690. — Vita
Beatorum Abbatum Wiremuthensium et Girvensium Bene-
dicti, d'G. auctore Beda. Edit. Giles.
Benedict, of Peterborough, was born in the twelfth
century, and educated at Oxford, where he was made a
doctor in divinity ; becoming a benedictine monk in
Christ church, Canterbury, he was elected prior of that
house. Though a great admirer of Thomas a Becket, he
was so much esteemed by Henry II, that by the influence
of that prince, he obtained the abbacy of Peterborough in
238 BENEDICT.
the year 1177. He assisted at the coronation of Richard I.
in 1189, and was made keeper of the great seal in 1191.
He wrote the life of Thomas a JBecket, and has been
called by Bale a vile impostor ; but the censure of Bale
will not much damage any reputation, the character
of that bishop of Ossory, for scurrility, being too well
known. (See his life.) Dr Cave informs us that the
author of the " Quadrilogus" transcribed the greater part
of Benedict's life of Becket into the third and fourth
books of his work.
Benedict died on Michaelmas day, 1193. Biog. Brit
Leland. Bale. Nicholson.
Benedict, of Gloucester, a monk of the great abbey
there, of whose time nothing is known. He has left a
life of Dubricius, archbishop of Caerleon, printed by
Wharton, (Anglia Sacra, ii. 654.) This relates the trans-
lation of Dubricius, in 1120; consequently the author
must have lived after that year, and the MS. used is
thought not much later. (Angl. Sacr. ii. Prcpf.)
Benedict, of Norwich, a learned monk, author of several
works, one of which was entitled, Alphabetum Aristotelis.
He died and was buried at Norwich in the year 1340.
Benedict, or Benoist, was born in Languedoc a. d.
750. He was son of Aigulfe, count of Languedoc, who was
distinguished by his fidelity to king Pepin, and by the
courage with which he defeated the Gascons, who invaded
his territories. Aigulfe sent his son Benoist to the court
of Pepin, where he first served as cup-bearer, and was
afterwards in the army. After the death of Pepin, he
entered the service of Charlemagne. An accident by
which he was nearly drowned struck him so forcibly that
he then began in earnest to think of his salvation : he
resolved to retire from the world, quitted his parents, and
intended to go to Aix la Chapelle, but passing through
Burgundy, he stopped at the abbey of St Seine, in the
BENEDICT. 239
diocese of Langres, near Dijon, and became a monk in that
house.
Two years and a half were passed by him in austerities
and fastings ; and when the abbot of St Seine died, the
monks wished to elect Benoist into his place, which he
declined, again passed into Languedoc (780,) and there
built a hermitage near a chapel dedicated to St Saturninus,
situated upon the stream called the Aniane. This hermit-
age increased by degrees until it became a considerable
convent, where there were 300 monks. The zeal of Benoist
of Aniane became noted, and led him to undertake the
reformation of monasteries, and the restoration of disci-
pline, both monastic and ecclesiastical : he also withstood
the errors of Felix of Elipandis.
Louis the Debonaire sent for Benoist and made him
chief over all the monasteries in France. He assisted at
the council of Aix la Chapelle, and presided over an
assembly of abbots, at which he drew up rules and statutes
to regulate the monastic life ; these were authorized by
the king, and sent to all the religious houses in France.
Benoist died in 821, at the monastery of Inde, called
since St Cornelius, which he had established near Aix la
Chapelle. This holy abbot was in France and Germany
what St Benedict was in Italy. He compiled a collection
of rules belonging to the Eastern and Western monks,
called Codex Regularum, with a concord, to shew the
superiority of the rule of St Benedict. He also prepared
a collection of homilies from the fathers, and a peni-
tential office.
The life of Benoist of Aniane was written by Ardon
Shearagdus, and given with a collection of his works in
1648, together with curious notes by Hugo Mainard, a
learned Benedictine. — Mabillon. Bulteaus Hist. Monast.
d'Ocad. Herschinus Dissert, sur Benoit d 'Aniane* Baillet
vies des Saints. Dnpin.
Benedicttjs, Peter, was born at Gusta, in Phoenicia,
in 1663. He received his education in the Maronite
240 BENEDICT.
college at Rome, where he made a great progress in
Oriental learning. After occupying the Hebrew professor-
ship at Pisa, at the age of forty-four he became a Jesuit,
but without losing the respect in which he was held by
the Maronites. He died at Rome in 1742. He com-
menced an edition of Ephrem Syrus, his venerable
countryman, a father of the Church; the edition was
completed by Assemanni. Benedictus also translated
part of the Greek menology. — Biog. Univ.
Benedict, Rene, or Renatus, a doctor of the Sorbonne,
and curate of St Eustathius, at Paris, was born at
Sevenieres, near Angers. He secretly inclined to pro-
testantism, and published at Paris the French translation
of the Scriptures, made by the reformed ministers at
Geneva. The version, after having been approved by
several doctors of the Sorbonne, and a privilege granted for
printing it, was on publication condemned, no doubt on
account of its origin being discovered. He was confessor
to Mary queen of Scots when she was in France. Some
time before the death of Henry III. of France, Benedict
published a book entitled Apologie Catholique, to shew
that the protestantism of Henry of Navarre was not a
sufficient reason to deprive him of his right of succes-
sion to the throne, because the Huguenots admitted the
fundamental articles of the catholic faith, and because the
ceremonies and practices which they rejected were not
observed in the primitive church. He contended also that
the council of Trent which condemned them, was neither
a general council, nor acknowledged by the church of
France. Benedict assisted in the assembly at St Denis,
which advised Henry of Navarre to be reconciled to the
church, for which that monarch appointed him bishop
of Troyes, but he could never be induced to apply for the
papal bulls, so that he only enjoyed its temporalities.
He died at Angers in 1608. His works are — 1. Apologie
Catholique. 2. History of the Coronation of Henry IV.
8vo. — Moreri.
BENEFIELD. 241
Benedicttjs, Levita, flourished in the early part of the
ninth century, and was a deacon of Mentz. He is chiefly
distinguished as the author of a collection of capitularies
in three books, which he compiled at the request of Otgar,
archbishop of Mentz, about the year 847. It is joined to
the four books of Ansegisus, and forms the fifth, sixth,
and seventh books of capitularies. — Biog. Univ.
Benefield, Sebastian, of the seventeenth century,
born at Prestbury, in Gloucestershire, August 12th, 1559.
He was admitted a scholar of Corpus Christi college, in
Oxford, August 30th, 1586, and chosen probationer-
fellow, April 16th, 1590. After he had taken his degree
of master of arts, he entered into holy orders ; and in
1599, was appointed rhetoric reader in his college, and
the year following admitted to the reading of the sen-
tences. In 1608, he took the degree of doctor of divinity,
and five years after, was appointed Margaret professor of
divinity in that university. He discharged this office
with great success for fourteen years, when he resigned
it, and retired to his rectory of Meysey Hampton, near
Fairford, in Gloucestershire, into which he had been in-
ducted several years before. He spent here the remainder
of his life; and was eminent for piety, integrity, and
extensive learning. He was well skilled in all arts of
knowledge, and extremely conversant in the writings
of the fathers and schoolmen. He was a sedentary
man, and fond of retirement, which rendered him less
easy and affable in conversation. He was particularly
attached to the opinions of Calvin, especially that of
predestination ; so that he has been styled a downright
and doctrinal Calvinist. He died at Meysey Hampton,
August 24th, 1630, and was buried in the chancel of the
church, on the 29th of the same month. He wrote the
following treatises : — 1. Doctrinse Christianas sex capita
totidem praelectionibus in schola Theolog. Oxon. pro
forma habitis discussa et desceptata. Oxford, 1610, 4to.
vol. it. x
242 BENGEL.
2. Appendix ad caput secundum de conciliis Evangelicis
etcet. ad versus Humphredum Leech. 3. Eight sermons
publicly preached in the university of Oxford, the second
at St Peter's in the East, the rest at St Mary's church.
Oxford, 1614, in 4to. 4. The siu against the Holy Ghost,
and other Christian doctrines, delivered in twelve sermons,
upon part of the tenth chapter of the epistle to the
Hebrews. Oxford, 1615, in 4to. 5. A Commentary, or
Exposition upon the first chapter of Amos, delivered in
twenty-one sermons, in the parish church of Meysey
Hampton, in the diocese of Gloucester. Oxford, 1613, in
4to. 6. Several sermons. 7. Commentary, or Exposition
upon the second chapter of Amos, delivered in twenty-one
sermons, in the parish church of Meysey Hampton, &c.
London, 1620, in 4to. 8. Prselectiones de perse verantia
sanctorum. Francfort, 1618, in 8vo. 9. Commentary, or
Exposition on the third chapter of Amos, &c. London,
1629, in 4to. 10. A Latin sermon upon Revelations.
— Biog. Brit.
Bengel, or Bengelius, was born at Winnedin, in
Wirtemberg, in 1687, and became divinity professor at
Tubingen, in Suabia. His works are — 1. Novi Testa-
menti Graeci recte cauteque adornandi prodromus, 8vo.
2. Notitia Nov. Test. Graec. recte cauteque adornati, 8vo.
o. Novum Test. Grsec. cum introductione in Crisin N. T.
Apparatu Critico et Epilogo, 4to. 4. Gnomon Nov. Test.
4to. 5. Cyclus, sive de anno magno solis, lunae, stellarum
consideratio, &c. 8vo, 6. Ordo Temporum, 8vo. He held
the doctrine of the millenium, the commencement of which
he placed in the year 1836. Dr John Piobertson published
a translation of his Introduction to the Exposition of the
Apocalypse, Svo. 1757. His edition of the New Testament
created a great sensation in the theological world at its
first appearance, though his labours as a critic have been
superseded by Witstein. He died in 1752. — Bp. Marsh's
Lectures. Gen. Diet.
BENIGNUS. 243
Benignus was the son of Sesgnen, a man of power and
wealth in Meath, who hospitably entertained St Patrick
in the year 433. The following account of him is given
by Jocelin :
" Sesgnen had a son, whom St Patrick baptized, and
adapting his name to his disposition, called him Benignus ;
and, in truth, his life and temper made good the name ;
for he was gentle and good natured, beloved by God and
men, and worthy of glory and honour both in this world
and the next. This youth stuck close to the side of the
prelate, and could by no means be kept asunder from him :
for when the holy man was going to take his rest, this
most pure child running from his father and mother, cast
himself at his feet, and pressing them with his hands to
his breast, and imprinting many kisses thereon, rested
with him. On the morrow, when St Patrick was pre-
pared for his journey, and ready to get into his chariot,
the boy laid hold of his foot beseeching and adjuring him
not to leave him behind ; and when both his parents
would have separated him from their guest, and retained
him with them, the lad, with tears and lamentations,
begged them to let him go with his spiritual father. The
Saint, seeing such great devotion in so tender a heart and
body, blessed him in the name of the Lord ; and, taking
him up in his chariot, prophesied, ' That he should be
the successor of his ministry, as indeed he was : for this
same Benignus succeeded St Patrick in the government
of his bishopric and primacy of all Ireland ; and, at length,
being celebrated for his great virtues and miracles, he
rested in the Lord."'
It is supposed that he was baptized by the name of
Stephen, which accordingly is one of the appellations
given to him. He obtained the name of Benin, whence
Benignus, from the sweetness of his disposition, the word
Bin in the Irish language signifying sweet. He was the
constant companion of St Patrick through the entire course
of his mission, and by some writers it is supposed that
the government of the church was consigned to him during
244 BENNET.
the lifetime of that prelate ; he certainly succeeded to the
see of Armagh in the year 455. Several poems regulating
the tributes and privileges of the monarchs and provincial
kings of Ireland, which are still extant in the Irish lan-
guage, are attributed to Benignus, and, as Mr Todd ob-
serves, are some proof that the Church had so advanced
in his time, as to be permitted to take an interest in the
civil affairs of the country. According to William of
Malmesbury, he relinquished his see before the end of his
life, and died a hermit at Firlingmore, near Glastonbury.
— Usher. Biog. Brit. Todd's Hist, of the Irish Church.
Bennet, Thomas, was born in 1673, and sent to St
John's college, Cambridge, in 1688. In 1699 he pub-
lished an Answer to the Dissenters' Pleas for Separation.
In the next year he was presented by bishop Compton
to the rectory of St James's, Colchester, where he became
an active parish priest. He now published his Confuta-
tion of Popery, which was followed in 1702 by a Discourse
of Schism ; in which he shews what is meant by schism ;
that schism is a damnable sin ; that there is a schism
between the church of England and the dissenters.
That this schism is to be charged on the dissenters'
side ; that the modern pretences of toleration, agree-
ment in fundamentals, &c. will not excuse the dissenters
from being guilty of schism. In 1705 he printed at
Cambridge his Confutation of Quakerism, and in 1708
A Brief History of the joint use of Precomposed Forms of
Prayer, in which he shews that the ancient Jews, our
Saviour, His Apostles, and the primitive Christians, never
joined in any prayers, but precomposed set forms only ;
that those precomposed set forms, in which they joined,
were such as the respective congregations were accus-
tomed to, and throughly acquainted with ; and that
their practice warrants the imposition of a national pre-
composed liturgy. To this treatise he has annexed a
discourse of the gift of prayer, the intent of which is to
shew, that what the dissenters mean by the gift of prayer,
BENNET.
viz. a faculty of conceiving prayers extempore, is not
comprised in Scripture. In the same year he published
his discourse On Joint Prayers, wherein he points out,
what is meant by joint prayer, that the joint use of prayers
conceived ex tempore, hinders devotion, and consequently
displeases God ; whereas the joint use of such precom-
posed set forms, as the congregation is accustomed to, and
throughly acquainted with, does effectually promote de-
votion, and consequently is commanded by God ; that
the lay dissenters are obliged, upon their own principles,
to abhor the prayers offered in their separate assemblies,
and to join in communion with the Established Church
This treatise was animadverted upon in several places.
In 1709 he published in 8vo. his Paraphrase with anno-
tations, on the Book of Common Prayer, in which he
observes that the using of the morning prayer, the litany,
and communion service at one and the same time, in one
continued order, is contrary to the first intention and
practice of the Church. In 1711 he published his Plights
of the Christian Church, to prove that Church authority
is not derived from the people, and that the laity have no
divine right to elect the clergy or choose their own pastors.
About this time he took his DD. degree. His next im-
portant publication was his "Directions for studying. 1. A
general system of divinity: Q. The thirty-nine articles, to
which is added St Jerome's Epistle to Xepotian." The
same year he published his Essay on the thirty-nine
articles agreed upon in 1562, and revised in 1571, in
which he defended the genuineness of the then contro-
verted clause in the -20th article. About this time he left
Colchester and removed to London, where he was chosen
lecturer at St Olave's in the Borough, and morning preacher
at St Lawrence Jewry. In 1716 he attacked the prin-
ciples of the nonjurors, in a pamphlet entitled, "The Non-
jurors' Separation from the Public Assemblies of the
Church of England, examined and approved to be Schis-
matical on their own Principles." He was soon after pie-
x g
'248 BENSON
sented to the vicarage of St Giles's, Cripplegate, where he
quickly became involved in disputes with his parishioners
on the rights of his Church, to which he recovered £150
per annum. In 1718 he engaged in the Trinitarian
controversy, in an examination of Dr Clarke's Scripture
Doctrine of the Trinity. In 1726 he published a Hebrew
grammar. He died of apoplexy on October 9, 1728. On
many points Dr Bennet's views were latitudinarian, and
in his controversies on the most sacred doctrine of the
Holy Trinity, his positions have sometimes the appear-
ance of being heterodox. — Gen. Diet. Biog. Brit.
Bennet, Benjamin, a presbyterian teacher, was born at
Whellesburgh, in Leicestershire, in 1674. After going
through his academical exercises he settled as a preacher
at the place of his nativity, from whence he removed to
Newcastle-upon-Tyne. His works are — 1. A Memorial of
the Reformation, 8vo, 1721, a very partial and unfair
performance. 2. A Defence of the same, 8vo. 3. Dis-
courses on Popery, 8vo. 4. Irenicum, or a Review of some
late controversies about the Trinity, 8vo. 5. Sermons on
the Inspiration of the Holy Scriptures. 6. Christian
Oratory, 8vo. This last work has gone through numerous
editions, and is exceedingly popular. He has the ill fame
of being chiefly instrumental, by his treatise, entitled
Irenicum, alluded to above, in leading the presbyterians
of England to the denial of the Saviour, and the rejection
of the God of Christians. He died at Newcastle in 1706.
— Gen. Diet. Bogue and Burnet's Hist, of Dissenters.
Benson, George, was born at Great Salkeld in Cum-
ber1 and, in 1699. He was educated at Whitehaven, and
afterwards at Glasgow. About 1721 he was chosen to
be : be teacher of a congregation at Abingdon, in Berkshire,
fron whence he removed in 1729 to Southwark, and in
1 7 succeeded Dr. Harris, at Crutched Friars. One of
cotch universities gave him the degree of DD.
BENTHAM. 247
the dissenters then been willing to receive titles which
formerly they denounced. He was educated a calvinist,
but being a learned man, and holding the right of private
judgment, he examined the calvinistic system, and found
it impossible to reconcile it with Scripture ; but when he
renounced Calvinism he did not look to the Church, but
following the blind guide of his private judgment fell into
Arianism. His chief works are, A Defence of the Reason-
ableness of Prayer ; An Account of the Burning of Servetus
at Geneva, and of the Concern of Calvin in that Act; An
Account of Archbishop Laud's Treatment of Dr Leighton ;
A Dissertation on % Thess. ii. 1 — 12, against the church
of Rome ; A Paraphrase and Notes on the Epistle to
Philemon, in the manner of Mr. Locke; which was
followed by paraphrases and notes, on the same plan, on
the Epistles to the Thessalonians, Timothy, and Titus,
and the Catholic Epistles. In 1735 he published a
History of the First Planting of Christianity, in two vols,
4 to. He wrote also the Reasonableness of the Christian
Religion as delivered in the Scriptures ; a Collection of
Tracts against Persecution; a volume of Sermons; and
a History of the Life of Jesus Christ, a posthumous work,
published in 1764. He died in 1763. He was respected
as a man of learning, but he was pedantic and wrote in
an affected style. — Memoirs prefixed to his Works.
Bentham, Thomas, was born about the year 1513, at
Sherbourne, in Yorkshire, and became a fellow of Magda-
lene college, Oxford, in 1543. He became eminent in
the university as a Hebrew scholar, and his theological
studies convinced him that the Church required a reforma-
tion. When first he went to the university the reforming
party was small, but in spite of the vigilance of the heads
of houses, it rapidly gained ground; and when, in the
reign of Edward VI. the reformers were in the ascendant,
Bentham embraced the cause of the reformation with
youthful ardour. It is said that with Henry Bull, of the
same college, he once shook the censer out of the hands
248 BENTHAM.
of some one officiating in the college chapel, to prevent,
as it was said, incense being offered to an idol. When,
with the accession of Queen Mary, the Romanizers
regained authority in church and state, and, aided by the
strong conservative feeling, which had been excited by
the excesses of the reforming ministry of Edward VI.
they were carrying things with a high hand, Bentham
disdained to conceal his sentiments. He refused to be
present at the service of the Church, now performed
according to the ritual as it existed before the late reign,
and he also refused to correct the scholars of his college
when they absented themselves from chapel. He therefore
became one of the first victims of the visitation under-
taken by Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, in 1553, and.
was deprived of his fellowship. He then went abroad,
residing some time at Zurich and Basle, where he became
preacher to the English exiles, expounding to them the
acts of the apostles, until he was called to a work of greater
danger. Many congregations remained in London during
Mary's reign in which the doctrine of the reformation
was preached, and there was one chief congregation, the
pastor of which acted as superintendent over all the others.
And this superintendent Bentham, in the last year of
queen Mary's reign, became. They required a fearless
man, and the fearlessness of Bentham was such as on one
occasion to bring him into danger. When seven martyrs
were to be burnt in Smithfield, proclamation was made that
none should speak to them, comfort them, or pray for them.
Bentham, however, no sooner saw fire put to the pile, than
he cried out, " We know that they are God's people ; we
must, therefore, wish them well, and pray Him to strength-
en them. Oh, may God Almighty, for Christ's sake, give
them strength." Loud shouts of " Amen" arose immedi-
ately on every side, greatly to the confusion and amaze-
ment of those who were charged with this cruel execution.
The cruelty of the Romanizing party had now done its
work, and had caused a re-action in men's minds. If pious
men had been disgusted with the selfishness and rapacity
BENT AM. 249
with which the reformers of Edward the sixth's reign had
applied to their own aggrandizement, and not the public
good, the revenues of which they despoiled the Church, all
men were now prepared to think any thing better than
the awful severity with which the ministers of Mary sought
to repress the reformation and silence their opponents.
In the second year of queen Elizabeth's reign, Bentham
was nominated to the see of Coventry and Lichfield, and
was consecrated on the 21th of March, 1559. Like others of
the bishops preferred in queen Elizabeth's reign, Bentham
would have been willing to have carried the reformation
further than the Church in convocation, and the queen as
head of the state, would permit. The superintending pro-
vidence of God protected His Church in this land then, as
It has often done since, from the rashness of her prelates,
who have acted merely as instruments in the hands of
God. May such protection ever be vouchsafed to the
blessed church of England !
In the year 1565 complaint was made against the dio-
cese of Coventry and Lichfield for not observing the orders
of the Church, for the dislike of the ecclesiastical habits,
and some other rites. Bishop Bentham was therefore
reproved ; and in consequence he appointed, in the be-
ginning of this year, a visitation to be held by Mr Sale
(or Saul), some dignitary of that church. And for the
better proceeding in this visitation, the bishop wrote, by
his own hand, these brief instructions for him to observe :
' Imprimis, Whereas I and my diocese are accused of
disorders, used of my clergy, these are to will you to charge
them all to behave themselves in their ministry, soberly
and reverently, in all points of clerkly office, as well within
the church as without ; upon pains which may ensue for
the transgressing the queen's injunctions.
• Item, To charge all and every the clergy to make pre-
sentments of those that had not communicated that Easter;
and such as refused their own churches, parsons, vicars,
or curates; and went to other parishes. And in what
parishes they were received.
250 BENTHAM.
1 To charge them to make presentments of all children
being full seven years of age, and not confirmed.
' And to give charge in their parishes, that in Rogation
week, none go about, but such as the queen's injunctions
do allow ; that is, substantial men of the parish, with the
curate.
1 To learn, whether the register book be had and ob-
served for marriages, christenings, and burials.
' All these and such others, as you shall see most meet,
for faithful and fruitful service of the ministers ; as in
appointing taxes and such like order, I will you do not
omit. " T. C. L.
The ZSth of April, 1565.
He published a sermon on Matt. iv. 1 — 2. printed at
London. Bishop Burnet says, he translated into English
the book of Psalms, at the command of queen Elizabeth,
when an English version of the Bible was to be made, and
that he likewise translated Ezekiel and Daniel. He died
at Eccleshall castle, in Staffordshire, the seat belonging to
his see, February 19, 1578, aged 65 years. — Wood. Tanner.
Strype's Annals Memorials. Cranmer. Grinded. Parker.
Bentham, Edward, was born at Ely in 1707. He was
educated at the school of Christ church, Oxford, from
whence, in 1723, he removed as a member of the univer-
sity to Corpus Christi college, and in 1731 was chosen
fellow of Oriel-college. The year following he took his
degree of MA. In 1743 he obtained a prebend in the
cathedral of Hereford, of which church he was afterwards
treasurer. In 1749 he proceeded to his doctors degree,
and in 1754 was promoted to the fifth stall in his cathe-
dral. On the death of Dr Fanshaw he was nominated
regius professor of divinity in the university of Oxford,
and in 1763 was removed to the eighth stall in the church
of Hereford. He died in 1776. Besides some single
sermons, Dr Bentham published — 1. An Introduction to
Moral Philosophy, 8vo. 2. A Letter to a young Gentle-
man on Study ; with a Letter to a Fellow of a College, 8vo.
BENTLEY. 2.51
3. Advice to a young man of rank, upon coming to the
University. 4. Reflections on Logic, with a vindication
of the same, 8vo. 5. Funeral Eulogies upon military
men, from the Greek, 8vo. 6. De Studiis Theologicis
Praelectio. 7. Reflections upon the Study of Divinity,
with heads of a course of Lectures, 8vo. 8. De Vita et
Moribus Johannis Burton, S. T. P. 9. An Introduction to
Logic, 8vo. 10. De Tumultibus Americanis deque eorum
concitatoribus similis meditatio. — Biog. Brit.
Bentham, James, brother of the preceding, was born at
Ely. He studied at Trinity-college, Cambridge, and in
1738 was presented to the vicarage of Stapleford in the
same county, which he resigned three years afterwards, on
being appointed minor canon of Ely. In 1767 he was
presented to the vicarage of Wymondham, in Norfolk, but
resigned it the next year for the rectory of Feltwell St
Nicholas, which he exchanged in 1774 for the rectory of
North wold, an this again for a prebendal stall in the
cathedral of Ely, to which was added in 1783 the rectory
of Bow-brick-hill. In 1771 he published " The History
and Antiquities of the conventual and cathedral church of
Ely," 4to. ; to which work he prefixed an introduction,
giving an account of Saxon, Norman, and Gothic architec-
ture. This essay by some strange mistake was ascribed to
Gray the poet, and it was not till 1783 that Mr Bentham
heard of the injustice done him, when he asserted his
claim in the Gentleman's Magazine. In 1757 he published
proposals for a drainage of the Fens, and by his exertions
this plan was carried into effect. On this subject he also
printed a tract entitled " Considerations and Reflections
upon the present state of the Fens near Ely, 8vo. 1778.
He died in 1794, aged 86. A new edition of his history of
Ely cathedral was printed at Norwich in 1812. — Nichols's
Anecdotes.
Bentley, Richard, was born at Oulton, in the parish of
Rothwell, near Leeds, on the 27th of January, 1661 — 2.
252 BENTLEY.
The investigations of the present learned vicar of Roth-
well, the Rev John Bell, have not brought to light any
anecdotes of the gifted youth or his family in addition to
those already recorded by bishop Monk ; nor, though he
received his primary education at Methley, has a single
copy of his verses been discovered by the accomplished
rector of that parish. From the day-school at Methley,
Bentley was sent to the grammar school at Wakefield,
and at the age of fourteen he entered as subsizar of St
John's college, Cambridge.
With the exception, if even that exception be allowed,
of Joseph Justus Scaliger; Bentley takes the highest rank
among the classical soholars of any age. But his biography
belongs rather to the history of scholars than to that of
divines. Although, as a theological writer, he holds a distin-
guished place, yet his general character is not that on which
a Christian delights to dwell. It would not therefore be
consistent with the character of this work to enter into the
details of his literary and academical controversies, and at-
tention will merely be called to his labours as a theologian.
They commenced at an early period, though they were
at all times regarded as secondary to his literary pursuits,
if they were not themselves undertaken rather as an intel-
lectual employment than as a ministerial duty. He was
ordained in March, 1689 — 90, and while yet a deacon he
was appointed to deliver the Boyle Lecture, being the first
lecturer on that foundation : it is scarcely possible to con-
ceive a greater compliment to the merits of a young man,
and throughout life Bentley appears to have considered
this distinction as the greatest of the honours with which
he was ever invested. The subject of his discourses was
a " Confutation of Atheism," and in them the discoveries
in Newton's Principia were applied to the confirmation
of natural theology. The Principia had been published
about six years ; but the sublime discoveries of that work
were yet little known, owing, not merely to the obsta-
cles which oppose the reception of novelty, but to the
difficulty of comprehending the proofs whereby they are
BENTLEY. 253
established. To Bentley belongs, as bishop Monk remarks,
the undoubted merit of having been the first to lay open
these discoveries in a popular form, and to explain their
irresistible force in the proof of a Deity. This constitutes
the subject of his seventh and eighth sermons; pieces
admirable for the clearness with which the whole ques-
tion is developed, as well as for the logical precision of
their arguments. Among other topics, he shows how con-
tradictory to the principles of philosophy is the notion of
matter contained in the Solar System having been once
diffused over a chaotic space, and afterwards combined
into the large bodies of the sun, planets, and secondaries,
by the force of mutual gravitation ; and he explains that
the planets could never have obtained the transverse mo-
tion, which causes them to revolve round the sun in orbits
nearly circular, from the agency of any cause except the
arm of an almighty Creator. From these and other sub-
jects of physical astronomy, as well as from the discoveries
of Boyle, the founder of the lecture, respecting the nature
and properties of the atmosphere, a conviction is irresistibly
impressed upon the mind of the wisdom and benevolence
of the Deity. We are assured that the effect of these dis-
courses was such, that atheism was deserted as untenable
ground ; or, to use his own expression, the atheists were
1 silent since that time, and sheltered themselves under
deism.'
It is not to be supposed that the trustees of the lecture-
ship selected so young a man without previous knowledge
of his powers. By going so early to Cambridge, Bentley
obtained the start of his contemporaries : and not only had
his character as a scholar and man of genius been estab-
lished at Cambridge, but he had made himself well known
to the literary characters he was accustomed to meet in
bishop Stillingfleet's family, where he resided as tutor to
the bishop's son. Bishop Stillingfleet had discovered that
if " he had but humility, Bentley would be the most extra-
ordinary man in Europe." Moreover his character was
VOL. II. . y
254 BENTLEY.
established at the sister university, for he had attended
young Stillingfleet to Oxford, where some remarks which
he published on Maletas, in the form of an epistle to
Dr Neill, attracted the attention of the scholars of Europe,
and were praised for originality of conception, as well as
for copious erudition.
By bishop StilliDgfleet he was preferred to a stall in
Worcester cathedral in the year 1692, and he held after-
wards the rectory of Hartlebury, until his pupil, the
bishop's son, was old enough to take it. In 1696 he took
his degree of D.D. He had been previously appointed
royal librarian : and from a misunderstanding between
him and the honourable Mr Boyle of Christ-church, Oxford,
arose the celebrated Boyle controversy, in which Bentley
trampled upon his opponents, and in his Dissertation on
Phalaris, produced a work which has never been surpassed
in the combination of lively wit, logical acumen, and
originality of remark, with profound learning. His claims
as a scholar were now universally acknowledged, and in
1699, he was appointed to the mastership of Trinity
college, Cambridge. The appointment was made by the
commissioners, appointed by William, after the death of
Mary, to recommend fit persons to fill all vacancies in
ecclesiastical or university preferments in the gift of the
crown. As a calvinist and dissenter the king felt his
incompetency to interfere in such appointments, and the
prerogative of the crown had not yet been usurped by the
chief servant of the sovereign. In 1701 Bentley married,
and was in the same year made archdeacon of Ely.
Into an account of the controversies in which he was now
involved, and in which he was almost always in the wrong,
it is not, for reasons before assigned, our intention to enter:
we need merely say that he exhibited throughout a sad
deficiency in the temper of a Christian, and even of a
gentleman, and it is impossible not to regret the mis-
application of those immense powers of mind, which
enabled him for twenty eight years to defy all ecclesiastical
BENTLEY. 205
authority and the censures of the university, and against
all right and law to hold his post as master of Trinity
college.
Such, however, was the energy of his mind, that not-
withstanding the incessant litigation in which he was
involved, his labours as a scholar were continued without
interruption. In 1711 he published his edition of Horace,
on which he had been employed ten years, and which,
with all its faults, and many of them highly characteristic
of the man, was worthy of his former fame.
But it was in 1713 that he had an opportunity of em-
ploying his learning for the most legitimate of all purposes,
by his answer to Collins on Free-Thinking. Anthony
Collins, wei are told by bishop Monk, was a gentleman
of education and fortune, who in early life enjoyed the
friendship of Locke, and had for some years devoted him-
self to the dissemination of these principles of infidelity,
to which the theory of Locke legitimately leads. Being
respectable in his private life, popular and agreeable in
his manners, and possessing an extensive acquaintance,
he acquired influence in society; and so great was his
zeal in the cause, that he seems to have proposed to him-
self the character of an apostle of irreligion. At the be-
ginning of 1713 he published, without his name, a book
styled ' A Discourse of Free-Thinking, occasioned by the
Rise and Growth of a Sect called Free-Thinkers.' It is
but too certain that deism had been making considerable
advance in England since the Revolution, and that its
progress had been aided by the insidious writings of
Shaftesbury, Toland, Tindal, and other enemies of revealed
religion. But the assumption of a ' growing sect' seems
to have been an artifice designed to imply an uniformity
of opinions, which did not really exist, among the im-
pugners of Christianity. Or if the ' sect' had any thing
like ' a local habitation and a name,' it was a small knot
of persons whose ordinary place of rendezvous was the
Grecian coffee-house near Temple Bar; and of them
Mr Collins was himself the centre, His present work,
256 BENTLEY.
whether we regard its literary merit, its power of argu-
ment, or the profoundness of its views, appears totally
unworthy of the attention which it excited : the learning
is superficial, the reasoning unsound, and the information
upon general topics loose and inaccurate ; while his ' sapless
pages' (as Bentley well denominates them) are destitute of
those indispensable requisites, honesty, and candour, for
the absence of which no merits can atone. Nevertheless,
this publication, intrinsically so worthless, occasioned
great sensation : it appeared as the manifesto of a party ;
it assumed the concurrence of almost all great men of
every age and country in similar tenets of ' free-thinking;'
and it attacked the clergy of the church of England with
especial severity. The authoritative and self-sufficient
tone in which its positions are laid down, and its perpetual
appeals to ancient literature, were well calculated to entrap
the careless and half-learned, who at all times constitute a
large proportion of the reading public.
Many replies were published, but Phileleutherus Lep-
siensis had the merit of demolishing the infidel fabric :
Nothing, observes Dr Monk, can be more judicious or
effectual than the manner in which Bentley takes to pieces
the shallow but dangerous performance of the infidel. Not
satisfied with replying to particular arguments, he cuts the
ground from under his feet, by exposing the fallacious mode
of reasoning which pervades them all, and the contemptible
sophism which represents all good and great men of every
age and country to have been 'free-thinkers,' and conse-
quently partizans of his own sect. But the happiest of
the remarks are those which display the mistakes and
ignorance of Collins in his citations from classical writers.
By a kind of fatality, his translations are perpetually in-
accurate, and his conception of the originals erroneous :
and though most of his blunders are the effects of igno-
rance, yet not a few seem to arise from a deliberate inten-
tion of deceiving his readers. Never was the advantage
more conspicuous of a ripe and perfect scholar over a half-
learned smatterer: while the latter searches book after
BENTLEY. 257
book in pursuit of passages favourable to his own theory,
the former, familiar with the writings and characters of
the authors, and accurately versed in their language, is
able to take to pieces the ill-sorted patchwork of irrelevant
quotations. These parts of Bentley's work are not only
effectual in demolishing his adversary, but are both enter-
taining and useful to the reader ; and to them it is owing
that the book has experienced a fate so different from that
of other controversial writings : even the ablest and best-
written of such pieces generally fall into oblivion along
with the dispute which gave them birth; but the 'Re-
marks of Phileleutherus' are still read with the same
delight as at their first appearance. The fact of their
having passed through a multitude of editions at consider-
able intervals of time marks a continuance of interest
among the educated public, only to be accounted for by
the intrinsic value of the work.
For this work Bentley received the thanks of the univer-
sity. In 1716 he designed a new edition of the Greek
Testament, and had communications with Wetstein upon
the subject : but although, having collected materials, and
caused several manuscripts to be collated, he raised a
considerable subscription in 1720 to enable him to com-
plete the work ; the plan was never carried into effect, and
every sincere Christian must rejoice that the bold irre-
verent spirit of Dr Bentley was providentially diverted
from a work in which he might have done incalculable
mischief.
His labours seem not to have injured his health, nor his
controversies to have interfered with the regularity of his
life. In 1726 he published his edition of Terence, by
which his character as a scholar was still maintained ; but
he exposed himself to much ridicule by undertaking, at
the suggestion of queen Caroline, an edition of Milton,
for which he was perfectly unqualified, and which was
received when published, in 1731, with universal disap-
probation.
v 2
258 BERENGARIUS.
He was employed in preparing an edition of Homer,
when a paralytic stroke, in the year 1739, put an end to his
labours. In the early part of 1740 he lost his wife, and
he himself died of pleuritic fever on the 14th of July,
1742. — Bishop Monk's Life of B entity.
Berengarius, or Berenger, was born at Tours about
the close of the tenth or the beginning of the eleventh
century. He was educated under Fulbert, bishop of
Chartres, and remained in that city till the death of that
prelate. On the death of Fulbert, returning to Tours,
he was appointed lecturer in the public schools attached
to St Martin's church, of which church he afterwards
became chamberlain, and then treasurer. His reason for
leaving Tours and going to Angers is not known, but he
was there appointed archdeacon by the bishop, who goes
under the two names of Eusebius and Bruno. At
Angers, as well as at Tours, the disciples and followers of
Berengarius were many in number.
Berengarius was born at the period when the doctrine
of transubstantiation was daily becoming more and more
prevalent in the Western church, and that peculiar notion
respecting the change of substance in the consecrated ele-
ments of the holy Eucharist, he refused to admit. That
doctrine had been moulded into definite form, from the
Catholic doctrine of the real Presence, by Paschasius
Radbert, monk, and afterwards abbot of Corbie, who died
in 865. The novelty gradually grew into repute, though
strongly protested against by several able writers, such as
Ratramnus and Rabanus Maurus : it seemed to harmo-
nize with the general spirit and tone which theology was
tending to assume. But in Berengarius the new doctrine
found an opponent, though, from the prevalence of the
opposite opinion, his more orthodox views could only be
promulged at considerable risk. Of the controversies in
which he was involved we have an account in Labbe and
Cossart's Councils, in Cave, in Mosheim, and in Dupin ;
BERENGARIUS. 259
but the writer of this article has never seen the history of
these important events so fairly and yet briefly narrated
as in Bowdens life of Gregory VII; and the reader will
be indebted for the facts of the following narrative to Mr
Bowden, a true son of the Church, whose bright example
of christian excellence will be referred to with admiration
by all who knew him, while many more than those who
knew him personally have lamented his early death.
It was in the pontificate of Leo IX. in 1050, that
the troubles of Berengarius began. He had written to
Lanfranc, at that time master of the monastic school at
Bee, and eventually archbishop of Canterbury, who had
adopted a different view of the question, and had concluded
his letter, still extant, by asserting, that if he considered
Johannes Scotus a heretic for being opposed to the new
doctrine, now called transubstantiation, he must give the
same character to St Ambrose, St Jerome, St Augustine,
and others. Lanfranc was at Piome when the letter was
sent to him in Normandy : it was read, however, by some
of the clergy, commissioned probably to open his letters
during his absence, and by them forwarded with indignant
remarks to Rome. It was written in a friendly spirit, and
on that account it was insinuated that Lanfranc must
himself be inclined to the opinions of Berengarius. This
will account for Lanfranc's laying the letter before a synod
then assembled at Rome, where he disavowed all partici-
pation in the opinions of Berengarius, and Berengarius
himself absent and unheard was censured. And this sen-
tence was shortly confirmed by a council held, under the
same pontiff, at Vercelli. At this latter meeting, Beren-
garius was summoned to appear and defend himself ; and
he declares, — in his book " de Sacra Ccena," fol. 16 — that
he was -willing to have complied with the summons ; but
that the king of France, — who was. officially, the abbot of
the church to which he belonged, and whose leave it was
incumbent on him to procure for the journey, — prevented
and confined him. He presented himself, however, before
Hildebrand, when the latter held, as papal legate, a coun-
260 BERENGARIUS.
cil at Tours, in 1054. And in him he found, according
to his own account, a most favourable judge. Hildebrand
listened to his arguments with mildness and attention,
and himself so far supported those arguments, as to bring
to the council the works of many authors, and to refer the
prelates who sat with him to various passages, explaining
and confirming the tenets of the accused. The legate
indeed expressed a wish that Berengarius should present
himself before pope Leo in person ; that by his authority
the clamours against him might be definitely quelled ; and
the prelates of the council expressed themselves satisfied
when the archdeacon of Angers made before them, verbally
and in writing, the declaration — which he says he most
heartily did — " that the bread and wine of the altar are
truly after consecration the Body and Blood of Christ."
Confiding in his powerful friend, Berengarius, — when
summoned to Rome in 1059, during the pontificate of
Nicholas II — hesitated not to present himself before the
papal throne. But the result of this step must have sorely
disappointed him. Headed by the cardinal bishop Hum-
bert, the party of his opponents was predominant in the
Lateran. Hildebrand was unable efficiently to protect
him ; the pope was cold and unfriendly. Awed by the
tumultuous clamours around him, and at the same time
appalled by the fear of instant death, Berengarius felt his
firmness forsake him ; and renouncing the opinion which
he had till then maintained, he adopted, as his own, the
following confession :- —
"I, Berengarius . . . anathematize every heresy, and
more particularly that of which I have hitherto been ac-
cused ... I agree with the holy Roman Church . . . that
the bread and wine which are placed on the altar, are,
after consecration, not only a sacrament, but even the true
Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ ; and that these
are sensibly, and not merely sacramentally, but in truth,
handled and broken by the hands of the priest, and ground
by the teeth of the faithful. And this I swear by the holy
and consubstantial Trinity, and by these holy gospels of
BERENGARIUS. 261
Christ." Berengarius was then allowed to return to
France, where, freed from the urgent terrors which had
overpowered him, he soon showed, by returning to the
inculcation of his former doctrines, the insincerity of
his compulsory recantation. He continued, however,
some years unmolested. Alexander II, whether guided
by the dictates of his own mild disposition, or by the in-
fluence of his great minister and adviser, forbore from all
attempts to move him by public censures, or by any other
mode than that of friendly expostulation. And Gregory
VII. we may imagine, would willingly have allowed the
supposed heretic to continue in tranquillity. But as the
stoinns of his pontificate rolled more loudly, as party
spirit was kindled and aroused throughout the Western
church to daily increasing exacerbation, this subject,
among others, was taken up with clamour; and his
opponents, by whom Gregory's views on the subject
were more than suspected, saw, it is probable, in an
attack on Berengarius, a likely mode of assailing and
annoying the pontiff himself. The influence of the latter
over his conclave, grew feeble, his enemies, even in
his own councils, threatened to overpower him, — and
Gregory was at length compelled so far to yield to their
demands, as to summon Berengarius to appear and defend
himself before the council of November 1078. But, upon
its assembling, he acted the part of a friend to the accused.
Berengarius, with his concurrence, in lieu of repeating
the delaration made by him in 1059, made the following,
couched in more general and less stringent terms. " I
acknowledge that the bread of the altar, after consecration,
is the true Body of Christ, which was bom of the Virgin,
which suffered on the cross, and which sitteth on the right
hand of the Father ; and that the wine of the altar, after
it is consecrated, is the true Blood which flowed from the
side of Christ ; and what I pronounce with my mouth,
that I declare I hold in my heart, so help me God and
these holy Gospels."
And this confession was no sooner made than Gregory
262 BERENGARIUS.
declared that it was enough for the Faith, and enough for
those who must be fed with milk and not with strong
meat ; as St Augustine had said, ' What ye see on the
altar is bread and wine, as your eyes inform you ; but,
according to that which faith demands of you, the bread
is the Body of Christ, and the wine His Blood.' He pro-
claimed aloud that Berengarius was no heretic ; that the
universally reverenced Peter Damiani had, in his hearing,
spoken of the sacrifice of the Eucharist in terms opposed
to those insisted on by Lanfranc and his party ; and that
Lanfranc's authority was not to be set against that of an
actual son of the church of Rome, who, while not inferior
to Lanfranc in depth of learning, far excelled him as to
the zeal with which he studied the divine word, according
to the Lord's own command, ' Search the Scriptures.'
And thus, in appearance, were appeased the clamours of
the archdeacon's impugners. Dissatisfaction, however,
had been excited by what were considered the ambiguous
terms of the new confession. Benno, Gregory's inveterate
enemy, who was able to influence a powerful party in the
college of cardinals, was urgent in calling for a statement
more specific. And it was insisted on, that Berengarius
should be detained in Rome, till the more solemn council
of the following Lent should definitely decide upon his
case. With this demand Gregory was either unable, or
afraid, to refuse compliance, and Berengarius remained,
during the winter, in the papal city. But, as Lent ap-
proached, the pontiff anxiously endeavoured to discover
some means by which the necessity of calling upon him
to remodel his confession might be avoided. He first
resolved to call upon him to confirm, by oath, the confes-
sion which he had already made, and to submit to the
ordeal of hot iron in proof of his truth. With this pro-
posal the accused expressed himself ready to comply ; but,
while he was preparing himself for the trial by fasting and
prayer, Gregory announced a change of purpose. Sending
for Berengarius, he, in the presence of the bishop of Porto,
thus addressed him : —
BERENGARIUS. 263
* I doubt not thou thinkest rightly enough, and in
accordance with the Scriptures, respecting the sacrifice of
Christ ; but as I am accustomed, on doubtful occasions, to
appeal to the aid of the blessed Mary, I some days back
directed a certain monk, who is my friend, to implore,
with prayer and fasting, that she would show me with
certainty to which side of this controversy I should incline ;
to the end that I might henceforth remain fixed in my
opinion. He fulfilled my request, and brought me, after
a certain time, the blessed Virgin's answer. It was to
the effect that we need believe nothing respecting the
Sacrifice of Christ, but that which the Scriptures teach
us ; and that Berengarius teaches nothing in opposition
to them.'
And yet, — notwithstanding these demonstrations of
favour and intended support, — the pontiff was prevailed
upon, or compelled, to command the appearance of Beren-
garius, within a few days of this conference with him,
before the council of Lent, 1079, and to permit his op-
ponents to tender for his adoption, a confession in the
following re-modelled form : —
' I believe with my heart, and confess with my mouth,
that the bread and wine which are placed upon the altar,
through the mystery of holy prayer, and through the words
of our Redeemer, are substantially converted into the true,
proper, and life-giving Body and Blood of Jesus Christ
our Lord, so as, after consecration, to be the true body of
Christ which was born of the Virgin, which, as an offering
for the salvation of the world, hung upon the cross, which
sitteth at the right hand of the Father; and the true blood
of Christ which flowed from His side ; and this not only
by the sign and virtue of a sacrament, but in properness
of nature and truth of substance.'
Berengarius, in the exigency in which he was placed,
did not hesitate to pledge himself to this document, or
even, in compliance with the clamours of his accusers, to
swear that he adopted the words in the sense which they
put upon them, and not according to any secret meaning
264 BERENGARIUS.
of his own. And as he thus disarmed them from taking
any further measures against him, Gregory lost no time
in sending him to his home, publicly forbidding him to
teach any longer the obnoxious doctrine which he had
disavowed ; but at the same time directing a faithful friend
to accompany and protect him on his way; and furnishing
him with a commendatory letter, in which he denounced
the censures of the Church against all who should presume
to do to Berengarius, a son of the Roman Church, any
injury, or to stigmatize him as a heretic. Thus freed
from his difficulties, Berengarius, — as might have been
expected, — avowed, upon his return, his original opinions ;
and ascribed his formal disavowal of them to the fear of
instant death. But Gregory, however urged on the point
by the archdeacon's enemies, firmly refused, — and to the
end of his life persevered in the refusal, — to take any fur-
ther measures against him.
The reader will probably be surprised to find Hildebrand,
(Gregory VII,) taking the protestant side, when the novel
doctrine of transubstantiation was introduced into the
Church.
Berengarius continued during the remainder of his life
unmolested by his opponents ; and died in peace at an
advanced age, on the 6th of January, 1088, in his place
of retirement, the island of St Come, near Tours. Such
was his religious and moral excellence, that he died in the
odour of sanctity, the canons of Tours being accustomed
for ages to perform religious services annually over his
tomb, and his name being inserted in the menology of the
cathedral of Angers. This, to Romish writers has been
perplexing : they know that at the present time no one
could die in the odour of sanctity, according to the tenets
of Romanism, who should deny the doctrine of transubstan-
tiation ; and they are surprised to find the contrary the
fact, in the eleventh century. If they refer to history
their perplexities will cease : although Berengarius held
an unpopular doctrine, yet impartial men knew that his
was the ancient doctrine, and even if they differed from
BERKELEY. 265
him in opinion, they did not deem this difference a
ground for his condemnation. So thought Gregory VII,
and we may be sure that the pope was not singular in
his ideas upon the subject. Berengarius admitted the real
Presence, which is necessary to render the holy rite a
Sacrament in the strict sense of the term ; but he would
not admit that substantial change in the elements upon
which modern Romanists insist, in order that the Sacra-
mental elements may become legitimate objects of adora-
tion.— Cave. Dupin. Mosheim. Bowden.
Berkeley, George. This great and good man, a saint
of the Anglican Church, whose name is connected with
the memorable line of Pope :
To Berkeley every virtue under heaven ;
was born on the 12th of March, 1684, at Kelchoin, near
Thomas-town, in the county of Kilkenny, and from
Kilkenny school, where he received the first part of his
education, he removed at fifteen years of age to Trinity
college, Dublin, of which college he became a fellow in
1707. In that year he published his first work, which
had been written before he was twenty years of age,
Arithmetica absque Algebra aut Euclide demonstrata.
The Essay towards the new Theory of Vision, was
published in 1709. The author was then in his twenty-
fifth year. Reid, who has endeavoured, throughout his
Essays on the Powers of the Human Mind, to depreciate
the labours of Berkeley in the same field, admits that "The
Theory of Vision contains very important discoveries and
marks of great genius." The work indeed contains two
discoveries of very considerable importance, the one limited
to the science of optics, the other of much more general
application. First, Berkeley has clearly and very simply
shewn that the eye is incapable of conveying to the mind
the idea of distance, as measured from the spectator, by
observing that such distance must be represented by a
VOL. II z
266 BERKELEY.
line placed with its end towards the eye, which would of
course present to the eye a point only. Our notion of
optical distance is in fact acquired by a continual series of
experiments of the touch, and of the bodily motion required
to bring ourselves in contact with an object, the presence
of which only, but not its distance, is intimated to us by
certain impressions on the eye. An infant may be observ-
ed making those experiments, and stretching out its hand
several times short of the object whose presence has been
announced by the eye, before the distance is accurately
ascertained. Persons who lose the sight of one eye are
found also to require fresh experimental tuition in the
measuring of distances ; and persons born blind from
cataract, on being couched at mature years, have stated
that the objects touched their eyes. The treatise contains
many minor discoveries, also of considerable interest, with
reference to the science of optics, which flow naturally as
corollaries from the above ; and in particular the author
suggests that " What we see are not solids, nor yet planes
variously coloured, they are only diversity of colours." In
truth, if there were no colour there would be no visible
figure, as may easily be seen if one were to attempt to
delineate a circle or any other figure on a coloured surface
with a brush dipped in precisely the same colour : whilst
the colour is wet it will be in fact a different colour, and
will therefore shew the circle, but when it becomes dry
no figure will be visible for want of a difference of colour ;
so if there were nothing but white uncoloured light in
nature, and it were capable of passing freely through all
bodies assuming no shade, (i. e. no contrast of colour)
there would be no visible figure.
The second of the discoveries we have referred to is this,
that tangible figure is wholly distinct from visible figure ;
in other words, that the table we see is not that which we
touch. The table we see, if it be circular, will appear in
most positions an oval to the eye, it will be smaller as we
retire from it, and larger as we approach it, and will be
BERKELEY. >67
continually shifting its form as we alter our position, as
every person acquainted with drawing must be well aware.
These changes do not occur in the tangible table. Simple
as this remark appears, yet as Reid has observed, (in refer-
ence to this discovery) "the notion of extension and figure
which we get from sight only, and that which we get from
touch, have been so constantly conjoined from our infancy
that it required great abilities to distinguish them accu-
rately, and to assign to each sense what truly belongs to
it." This point, says Reid again, " Berkeley has laboured
through the whole of the Essay on Vision with that un-
common penetration and judgment which he possessed.
The experiment has in fact since been repeatedly made in
the cases of persons operated on for cataract to which they
had been subject from birth. They have been unable to
distinguish a dog, for instance, from a cat by sight till after
repeated trial, handling each animal first, and then looking
at it, as a child learns to refer the letters, when spelling;
to the pictures of the animals in his spelling-book. The
visible object is a translation of the tangible into another
language — aud vice versa."
We have said that this second discovery admits of
very general application. It must have originally required
much mental effort thus to sever ideas associated with
each other from the earliest period of our existence, and
there can be little doubt that Berkeley was thus led to his
more extended speculations on what has been usually
termed the existence of matter. In fact his great work,
entitled " The Principles of Human Knowledge," was pub-
lished-in 1710, the year after the New Theory of Vision,
and this was followed in 1713, by " Three Dialogues be-
tween Hylas and Philonous," in which the same views are
enforced, but in the more popular form of dialogues, writ-
ten, too, in a style to which nothing can be found com-
parable except that of Plato.
No work has been so much misunderstood, or mis-
represented, as "The Principles of Human Knowledge."
Berkeley was led by the brilliant results of his analysis of
268 BERKELEY.
the mental operations, relative to visible and tangible
figure, to apply his genius to a searching investigation of
the received notions as to material substance. It is now
admitted by all that these notions were in Berkeley's time
most unsatisfactory. We cannot here discuss the various
opinions of the ancient heathen philosophers on this con-
fessedly difficult subject, but they appear to have agreed
in regarding matter as co-eternal with, and therefore in-
dependent of, the Deity ; and the piety of Berkeley contri-
buted not a little to stimulate him in those researches,
which terminated (as it appeared to him) in a demonstra-
tion, that the very existence of matter independently of
the Divine mind, cannot even be conceived. The system
of the heathen philosophers was not, as far as regards the
eternity of matter, adopted by Christians ; but various un-
satisfactory explanations were resorted to for the purpose of
reconciling the dogmas of Aristotle with the accounts of
the creation, which it has pleased God Himself to reveal
to us. Des Cartes is entitled to the merit of venturing
among the first to question these dogmas or heathen tra-
ditions, as to the origin and nature of the inanimate world;
and his writings, together with those of other meta-
physicians down to and including Locke and Malebranche,
contributed no doubt to clear the way to those principles
which were regarded by Berkeley as the foundation of our
knowledge. But the difficulty was great with regard to the
nature of what has been called matter. The term itself
is derived from the old heathen philosophy, which treated
of it as the necessary eternal material from which the
Deity formed the world, it being with them a maxim that
" nothing can be made of nothing ;" for they never rose to
the conception of an all powerful mind which can originate,
or to the distinction between creating and making. They
imagined that the operations of creation required a sub-
stance to work on, as a human artist, in making a watch,
for instance, must be furnished with the brass and steel
of which it is formed. Now, whilst reasoning upon a
different basis, and admitting the creation of matter by
BERKELEY. Q09
God, the modern philosophers had great difficulty in
describing of what it consists. For, according to their view,
there was still a necessity for the substratum or ground-
work of all existing things perceived by the senses; but as
this matter must be common to every thing, it became
difficult to define what common thing there is in gold,
lead, stone, animal and vegetable frames, solids, liquids,
air, &c. And after much thought Locke was brought to
admit that extension, solidity, figure, and motion, were
the only qualities he could assign as essential to, and in-
separable from, matter ; whilst he conceived colour, sound,
taste, smell, heat, and cold, to be due to powers in given
bodies to excite those sensations in our minds. Now to
Berkeley this system appeared so vague that he was led to
analyze more clearly what it is which produces the im-
pression of the so-called matter in our minds, and whether
there be really any such common material substance as
was supposed. Take, for instance, a bell into your hands
and riDg it, what more do you know about it than this —
your eyes are impressed with one class of sensations, your
hands (with which you may feel the hardness and form of
the bell) with another, your ears with another, and to all
this combination of sensations you give the name of a
bell. But do you know the ultimate cause of any one
class of these sensations, namely, the colour, or sound,
any more than the ultimate cause of the hardness and
form which you feel with your hands ? Is it then a sound
distinction to say that solidity (or hardness) and figure
are essential qualities, resembling something in the body
itself, whilst the colour and sound are merely secondary
qualities arising from a power in the bell to excite them '?
or rather, in fact, are not the solidity and figure just as
much the objects of sensation as the colour and sound,
being perceived by the fingers and touch, instead of by
the eyes and ears. If you were to see a painted bell your
eyes would immediately inform you of one class of sensa-
tions, which, by former experience of your hands and ears,
z2
270 BERKELEY.
you have associated with the thing called a bell ; if a bell
without a clapper be presented to you, you bring another
class of sensations into play by touching it ; if the clapper
be added, another class of sensations is produced on ringing
it, and the bell is complete : but after all you have nothing
more than a series of sensations, nor, try as you will, can you
form any conception of matter which does not necessarily
involve on the one hand as its definition, that it is either
seen, heard, tasted, smelt, or felt, or which admits on the
other hand of any test of its existence except by means
of one of those senses at least. Berkeley was thus led to
conclude that what has been termed matter in reality means
nothing more than the fact of our consciousness of divers
bundles of sensations ; for, take away the hardness which
you feel, the weight which presses on your hand, the colour,
the sound of the bell, and what remains of the fancied sub-
stratum of all these? If this be so, it follows that the so-
called material objects are brought by analysis to a con-
sciousness of certain sensations. It follows that if there be
no existing being capable of consciousness, there is no
possibility of conceiving the existence of matter ; which
depends therefore for its very existence on mind, instead, as
the heathens supposed, being the necessary substratum for
mind to work on. But now let us revert to the instance
of the bell ; we find that the visible image impresses itself
necessarily on our eyes if we open them — the tangible on
our fingers if we stretch them out in a given direction,
namely, to the place where the bell is. These sensations
are wholly independent of our own will, quite different
from the recollections which we can bring up in our minds,
or from any other original act of our own : they are some-
thing therefore different from ourselves. The act of seeing,
&c, therefore gives us both the sensation and also a know-
ledge of the existence of a cause of it, independent of our
own minds. Here it is that Berkeley has been so much
misunderstood and misrepresented. He has never ques-
tioned the existence of a cause of our sensations indepen-
BERKELEY. 271
dent of ourselves ; but lie has said the existence of what is
called matter is the existence of sensations, and the exist-
ence of sensations implies the existence of a sentient
being, and that some such being must exist, or what has
been called matter cannot exist. He infers the existence
of other minds by shewing that many sensations occur
which we are conscious we did not originate, and cannot
terminate ; some of these are such as we would by due
instruction originate, and we infer, therefore, that they
have been originated by beings like ourselves. Thus if
we see a watch made by the watchmaker, or to use our
former instance, a bell, and find we could by being taught
make a watch or a bell ourselves, we infer the existence
of a mind similar to our own, which has originated the
peculiar combination of sensations before us, and which
we call by the names of watch and bell ; but if we ana-
lyze the component sensations into a simpler form, and
consider the sensations produced by the brass and steel,
and the sensations of their weight, hardness, and the like,
which we cannot originate, or conceive a being like our-
selves to have originated, we are led to infer the existence
of a creative Being, who originates that particular class of
sensations, and in whose mind they may exist even if all
created minds were destroyed. This Being, and not a
mysterious undefined substratum, then, is, accordino- to
Berkeley, the cause of all the varied combinations of sen-
sations to which we give names ; and He, i. e. God, has
willed that such sensations should come in associated
groups : e. g. that the bright sensation we call light should
usually te attended with the burning sensation of heat ;
it is not always so, for the glow worm, and fire fly, do not
burn, though a child would probably expect them to do
so. God might doubtless, if he pleased, at once cause
water to burn, and fire to occasion the sensation of cold.
Every thing called matter (as we perceive it) is, in other
words, a group of sensations, ordered according to a given
law, which law we did not originate, and cannot vary. It
is independent of, rather than external to, the mind ; for it
3751 BERKELEY.
is gross materialism to speak literally of the inside or out-
side of the mind, for mind is not extended, and has no
parts, like a cup or vessel : so that in talking of things
being external to the mind, all philosophers (except mate-
rialists) must be assumed to speak metaphorically.
We shall now perceive how much Berkeley has been
misrepresented by those who have pretended to refute
him ; aud as Reid is supposed by many to have succeeded
in such refutation, it will be sufficient to expose briefly
his mis-statement of the case. In one passage of his Essay
Reid states, correctly enough, that "Berkeley acknow-
ledges that material things have a real existence out of
the mind of this or that person, but that the question
between him and the materialist is, whether they have an
absolute existence distinct from their being perceived by
God ?" This is fairly stated, yet the same opponent after-
wards states the question thus, " How are we astonished
when the philosopher informs us that the sun and moon
which we see are not, as we imagine, many miles distant
from us and from each other, but that they are in our
owd mind ; that they had no existence before we saw
them, and will have none when we cease to perceive and
to think of them, because the objects we perceive are only
ideas in our own minds, which can have no existence a
moment longer than we think of them " He then pro-
ceeds to refute this last absurd supposition, which it is
needless to say is merely fighting with a shadow of his
own creation. The first extract alone contains Berkeley's
view, and the result of his whole system is this, — That
God, by an act of His will, causes our minds to have
certain sensations in uniform order, and uniformly asso-
ciated. How and in what form the Divine mind may be
conscious itself of sensations he, of course, presumes not
to say ; but to all men's minds these sensations occur
alike, whether men desire them or not, independently
therefore of any one man's mind, or of his thinking of
them.
Some very remarkable consequences are deducible
BERKELEY. 273
from Berkeley's views. His main object, indeed, was to
vindicate God's existence thereby, and he has beauti-
fully expanded this branch of the subject in his Minute
Philosopher. As one illustration we may mention his
conclusive argument against any difficulty arising from
God Himself not being the object of our senses — for nei-
ther are men such. Man makes himself known to us
indeed by voice, gesture, &c, through the medium there-
fore of our senses ; but who could say that any one of our
senses really perceives the sentient being constituting the
man. That invisible being does acts independent of and
similar to our own, and is therefore a real active being
like ourselves, but this is an inference only, though a sure
one. The same remark applies to God, His acts are per-
ceivable every where by such sensations as neither we nor
any one else like ourselves can originate, therefore, the
acts are originated by a Being above us, and all other
beings like us.
It was noticed by Arthur Collier, who, in 1713, published
a work called Clavis Universalis, and adopted the views of
Berkeley, though it is not clear that he had seen his
work, that the doctrine of transubstantiation is effectually
disposed of by this theory; for if the notion of a sub-
stratum be removed, then, where all the sensations are the
same, the thing or object must be the same.
The resolving also of cause and effect into a constant
sequence of certain sensations in given order, which was
afterwards dilated upon by Brown, is clearly stated by
Berkeley, whom Brown in the notes to his work abuses,
without acknowledging his obligations to him.
The view of Berkeley differed from that of Malebranche
materially, for the latter conceived that we saw all things
by our own mind's being united with the Deity, which
doctrine followed up would seem to lead to Pantheism,
and to destroy man's independent existence.
But, from the speculation of Berkeley, we must now
pass on to the consideration of the facts connected with
his life. He took his doctor's degree in 17^1, and the
274 BERKELEY.
year following he was made by Mrs Vanhomrich, Swift's
Vanessa, one of her executors, by which circumstance he
obtained a legacy of £4000. In 1724 he was advanced to
the deanery of Deny.
He might now, with the majority of his contemporaries,
have sought only his own ease and comfort. But his mind
had been employed on the truly Christian project of
converting " the savage Americans to Christianity by a
college to be erected on the Summer Islands, otherwise
called the Isles of Bermuda." It is easy to devise plans
of benevolence, to support their cause by eloquent speeches
and the plaudits of admiring friends, and by an annual
subscription of which the loss is scarcely felt. But dean
Berkeley was in earnest in the scheme that he proposed,
and immediately offered to resign his comfortable deanery,
the delights of literary society, and his large income, that
he might dedicate the remainder of his life to the instruc-
tion of youth in America, reserving to himself only £100
a-year. To the honour of the age it must be mentioned, that
three fellows of Trinity college, Dublin, were found ready
to follow his example, and to give up their fellowships,
and all those high prospects at home, to which a Dublin
fellowship was at that time supposed to lead. They went
with him, having a salary of £40 a-year. The plan being
sanctioned by George the First and his ministers, a grant
of £20,000 was made for the establishment of the college,
and, in 1728, our noble-minded missionary sailed for
America. In America he remained for two years and a
half at Newport, in Rhode Island, winning the love and
respect of all who approached him. He rallied around
him the few Catholic clergy who were then in America,
who held a kind of quarterly synod at his house, and he
was busily employed in preaching the gospel, and in
administering the sacraments in various destitute places,
while to the church at Newport he presented an organ
for the more decent celebration of the divine offices. But
notwithstanding his exertions, every attempt to realize the
object which took him across the Atlantic failed. The
BERKELEY. 275
money which had been voted to him had been appropriated
by government in another way ; and when bishop Gibson
applied to sir Robert Walpole upon the subject, the reply
of the minister was, " If you put this question to me as
minister, I must and can assure you that the money shall
most undoubtedly be paid as soon as suits the public
convenience ; but if you ask me as a friend whether dean
Berkeley should continue in America, expecting the pay-
ment of £20,000, I advise him by all means to return
home to Europe, and to give up his present expectations.'-
Mortifying as this circumstance was, Dr Berkeley had
nothing else to do than to follow the advice of bishop
Gibson, his diocesan, and to submit. With his usual
generosity, he gave his house and a hundred acres of
cultivated land around it to Yale and Haward colleges,
and he gave books to the value of £500 to those in-
stitutions and the clergy of Rhode Island ; and quitted
America in September, 1731.
On his return home he published that masterly per-
formance, the Minute Philosopher, in which he pursues
the free-thinker through the various characters of atheist,
libertine, enthusiast, scorner, critic, metaphysician, fatalist,
sceptic; and employs against him, with peculiar dexterity,
several new weapons drawn from the storehouse of his own
ingenious system of philosophy. It is written in a series
of dialogues on the model of Plato, and it seemed to the
late bishop Jebb to be so well adapted to the present age,
that this admirable prelate designed a re-publication of it
with notes of his own, had he not been summoned to his
rest before he could accomplish this and other useful
works, which he contemplated for the benefit of the
Church.
Dr Berkeley was at this time a frequent guest at those
hebdomadal parties which Caroline, the queen of George II,
was accustomed to give to persons of established intellec-
tual celebrity. Here he had the honour of being supported
by Sherlock, and perhaps the greater honour of being
opposed by Hoadly and Clarke.
276 BERKELEY.
In May, 1733, he was consecrated bishop of Cloyne.
In 1745 he had the offer of the more valuable bishopric of
Clogher, but refused to leave his diocese, where he con-
stantly resided, and to the duties of which he paid
unremitting attention. In like manner when he might
have obtained the primacy he declined it, saying, " I
desire to add one more to the list of churchmen who are
dead to avarice and ambition."
Soon after his consecration he published the Analyst,
in which he argues that mathematical knowledge makes
far larger demands than Christianity, upon the implicit
acquiescence of mankind.
Towards the close of life his health failed him, and
finding relief from tar water, he published his Siris ; a
wonderful instance of the fertility of his genius, and at
the same time of the weakness of the strongest minds. It
was written to establish the virtues of tar water as a
medicine, and the effects ascribed to it are such as quack
advertisers of all times attribute to their medicines.
They, however, wilfully deceive ; Berkeley was induced to
generalize hastily on a subject on which he had but very
partial knowledge, by a wish to impart to others the bene-
fits he conceived he had derived from the medicine. But
his fruitful mind could not be stirred on any subject in
vain ; the weeds indicated the fertility of the soil, and the
Essay on Tar Water concludes with some of the most soul
ennobling disquisitions on high and abstruse points of
philosophy and divinity. It is divided into ten sections,
the first of which is " Tar Water how made." The fourth to
the seventh represent it as "A cure for foulness of blood,
ulceration of bowels, lungs, consumptive coughs, pleurisy,
peripneumony, erysipelas, asthma, indigestion, cachectic
and hysteric cases, gravel, dropsy, and all inflammations."
And the last sections are " The Study of Plato recom-
mended, who agrees with Scripture in many particulars.
His opinion of the Deity, and particularly of a Trinity,
agreeable to Revelation."
BERNARD, 277
He now longed to retire from public life, and while
preparing for the great change awaiting him, to give him-
self up to meditation. He wished to make Oxford his
residence, that he might at the same time superintend
the education of his son. He asked, therefore, to exchange
his bishopric for a canomy of Christ-church. It is a sad
infliction upon the English church that no provision is
made for the retirement of bishops when they become too
infirm for their work. Bishop Berkeley was not allowed
to resign; but having obtained permission to reside where
he pleased, he made a series of liberal arrangements at
Cloyne, and then went to die at Oxford. He settled
there in July, 1752, and died in January, 1753. He was
placidly listening while his wife was reading the burial
service, when he fell asleep in Jesus. So peaceful was
the passage of his soul to the Church triumphant, that his
death was not discovered by those around him, until he
had become stiff and cold. Of him bishop Atterbury
said, " So much understanding, knowledge, innocence,
and humility, I should have thought confined to angels,
had I never seen this gentleman."
The facts are taken chiefly from the life of Berkeley
prefixed to his works, and from the works themselves.
Bernard, of Clairvaux, commonly called St Bernard,
has been styled the last of the fathers, because he stands,
as it were, on the confines of the system of the early
Church, which contemplated God as He is in Himself,
and that of the later ages, in which the mysterious deal-
ings of God with the soul of the individual Christian
were minutely analyzed. He wrote from Scripture and the
fathers, and came not into that form of theology called
scholastic, which, commencing in his time, became after-
wards generally prevalent. He was born of a noble
family, at Fontaines, near Dijon, in Burgundy, in the
year 1091. His early education devolved on his pious
mother, Aletta, his father, Tecelin, being too much en-
gaged in deeds of arms to attend to the claims of his
VOL. II. 2 A
BERNARD.
family. Dedicated by his mother to the service of the
Church, from the time of his birth, he received the educa-
tion necessary for holy orders at Chatillon ; but he lost
the mother who had hitherto watched and prayed for
him when he arrived at the age of fifteen. We have an
account of Aletta*s death from a contemporary author, and
as characteristic of the times it is here presented to the
reader : —
•■ Aletta was accustomed to celebrate the festival of
St Ambrose, the patron of the church of Fontaines, by
an annual feast, to which the neighbouring clergy were
invited. On the vigil of that day, she was seized with a
violent fever which confined her to her bed." (It appears
that she had had a presentiment of her approaching death,
which she had communicated to her husband and family. |
" The next morning, she requested that the Holy Com-
munion might be administered to her, and feeling strength-
ened after its reception, she desired that the clergy would
sit down to the feast she had provided. While they were
at table, she sent for her eldest son Guido, and desired
that he would request the company to repair to her cham-
ber, when the repast was ended. When they were assem-
bled, and standing round her bed, Aletta calmly announced
that the moment of her departure was at hand, and en-
treated their prayers. The ministers of the Lord began
to read the litany, Aletta herself making the responses,
as long as her breath lasted : but when the choir reached
that veisicle, " By thy cross and passion, good Lord deli-
ver us,"' the dying woman, commending her soul to God,
raised her hand to make the sign of the cross, and in that
attitude she expired ; giving up her spirit to the angels,
by whom it was carried to the abode of the just. There
it awaits in peace the re-union with the body at the great
day of the resurrection, when our Lord and Advocate,
- Christ, shall come to judge the quick and the dead."'
Joan. Erem. p. 1300.
>r says of Aletta. " She was often to be seen
alone and on foot, on the road between Fontaines and
BERNARD. ul9
Dijon, visiting the cottages of the poor, and carrying pro-
visions and remedies to the sick and afflicted, and adminis-
tering instruction and spiritual consolation to them. She
never allowed her domestics to assist her in these offices,
so that it might truly be said, that her left hand knew
not what her right hand performed. Aletta was buried at
Dijon, where her remains reposed for 140 years, at the
end of which time they were removed to Clairvaux."
In vain did the young nobles of his own age endeavour
to dissuade Bernard from embracing a monastic life : he
found little attraction in worldly pleasure, or in chivalrous
exercises ; and though in the study of literature he might
have found a more congenial pursuit, after a little waver-
ing, he determined to fulfil the wishes of that beloved
mother, to whose early instructions he was so deeply
indebted. With reference to this determination, Bernard
said in after years to his monks :
" I am not ashamed to confess, that often, and par-
ticularly at the beginning of my conversion, I expe-
rienced great hardness of heart, and an extreme coldness.
I sought after Him, whom my soul would fain love.
Him, in whom my frozen spirit might repose and
re-arjimate itself. But none came to succour me, and
dissolve this strong ice which bound up all the spiritual
senses, and to revive the sweetness and serenity of the
spiritual spring, and thus my soul continued feeble and
listless, a prey to grief, almost to despair, and murmuring
internally. Who is able to abide His frost? Then on a
sudden, and perhaps at the first word, or at the first sight
of a spiritually- minded person, sometimes at the bare
recollection of one dead or absent, the Holy Spirit would
begin to breathe, and the waters to flow ; then would tears
be my meat day and night."
Xot only did Bernard determine to embrace the mon-
astic life himself, but he was eloquent in persuading
others to do the same. We subjoin one of Bernard's
letters, as a specimen of the mode of argument he used
with his friends :
280 BERNARD.
" The zeal which animates me is not of carnal growth,
it springs from the desire of co-operating with you in
working out our salvation. Nobility, strength, beauty, the
pleasures of youth, the riches of the earth, palaces, places
of dignity, the wisdom of this world, all these are to be
found in the world. But how long will they last ? They
will vanish with the world, — before the world, — for in the
twinkling of an eye you will, yourself, have left the world.
Life is short, the world passeth away, and you will pass
awav before it. Why not then cease from loving that
which will soon cease to be ? Oh my brother, come with-
out delay, and unite yourself to a man who loves you with
a sincere and lasting affection. Even death will not
separate two hearts that religion has joined. The hap-
piness which I desire for you, has respect neither to time
nor to the body, and will subsist independent of either.
And not only so ; it will increase when the body is de-
stroyed, and when ' there shall be no more time.' And
what comparison is there between this happiness and that
offered by the world ? The supreme good is that, of which
nothing can deprive you. And what is that ? Eye hath
not seen, nor ear heard it ; neither hath it entered into
the heart of man to conceive it, for flesh and blood are
incapable of it, it must be revealed to us by the Spirit of
God. Blessed are they who have understood this word,
' Ye are my friends, what I have heard of my Father that
have I shown you.' " Ep. 107.
On another occasion, in writing to a young man, who
was wavering in his resolution, he says, " Why should you
be surprised to find yourself still fluctuating between good
and evil, before you have yet placed your feet on the solid
ground? Oh that you could apprehend my meaning!
Only Thou, my God, must discover to the eye of man, the
things which Thou hast prepared for them that love Thee.
'Come unto me,' saith the Saviour, 'all ye that labour
and are heavy laden, and I will refresh you.' Do you fear
then to want strength, when it is the Truth that has pro-
BERNARD. 281
inised to support you? May God grant you the knowledge
of His law, and of His will." Ep. -206.
His humility prevented him from forming a new-
religious order, like other men of eminent piety, his
contemporaries; and his enthusiasm and the reality of his
religious impressions induced him to seek the most poorly
endowed abbey with which he was acquainted. This was
the convent of Citeaux, (Cistercians) situated in a barren
wilderness iu the diocese of Chalons-sur-Saone, and founded
in the year 1098 by Robert, a nobleman of Champagne.
Over this convent, in which the Benedictine rule was
observed with more than its primitive severity, Stephen
Harding, an Englishman, presided. To this monastery,
at the age of twenty-three, Bernard retired with more than
thirty associates, including among the number four of his
brothers. With a delicate constitution, he quitted the
luxuries of aristocratic life, and entered the strictest order
of the day, to become a poor man, a rustic ; for manual
labour in the fields sometimes, and sometimes in the
kitchen, and in sweeping the dormitory, formed part of
the rule. He was never willing to give up this portion of
the discipline, though his delicate frame could ill bear the
fatigue. He is said to have become an expert reaper.
But bodily labour was not suffered to preclude mental
exertion, and it was in the cloister of Citeaux that Bernard
acquired his wonderful knowledge of the Scriptures,
meditating upon them before the morning light. Even
during his labours in the field he could bring his mind to
sacred meditation, and his feelings were alive to the in-
spiring beauties of inanimate nature : at a later period of
his life we find him saying, "take the testimony of my own
experience, and, believe me, thou wilt find more in woods
than in books ; and trees and stones will teach thee more
than thou canst learn from man." The subject of his
continual meditations was the sufferings of our blessed
Lord and Saviour. It was from meditating on hi-
viouris cross that he was so eager to take up his own. He
282 BERNARD.
was wont to compare this exercise, says Neander, to the
nosegay of myrrh, that the spouse in the Canticles had
gathered with pious care to plant in her bosom. In one
of the sermons on the Canticles he thus expresses himself
on the subject: — " From the very beginning of my con-
version, my brethren, feeling my own great deficiency in
virtue, I appropriated to myself this nosegay of myrrh,
composed of all the sufferings and the pains of my Saviour;
of the privations to which He submitted in His childhood ;
the labours that He endured in His preaching; the fatigue
that He underwent in His journeyings ; of His watchings
in prayer, His temptations in fasting, His tears of compas-
sion; of the snares that were laid for Him in His words ;
of His perils among false brethren ; of the outrages, the
spitting, the smiting, the mockery, the insults, the nails ;
in a word, of all the grief of all kinds that He submitted to
for the salvation of man. I have discovered that wisdom
consists in meditating on these things, and that in them
alone is the perfection of justice, the plenitude of know-
ledge, the riches of salvation, and the abundance of merit ;
and in these contemplations I find relief from sadness,
moderation in success, and safety in the royal highway of
this life ; so that I march on between the good and evil,
scattering on either side the perils by which I am menaced.
This is the reason why I always have these things in my
mouth, as you know, and always in my heart, as God
knows ; they are habitually recurring in my writings, as
every one may see ; and my most sublime philosophy is to
know Jesus Christ, and Him crucified/' Serm. 43, in
Cant. C antic.
The reputation of Bernard drew many votaries to Ci-
teaux, where, till his appearance among them, the society
had long lived in apprehension of gradual extinction; for
persons naturally dreaded an asceticism which, however
admirable according to the notions of the age, they con-
sidered to be above the ordinary strength of man. But the
influence and the example of Bernard changed the whole
BERNARD. 033
aspect of affairs, and devotees from all quarters nocked to
the convent. In 1115, Bernard was sent by the abbot
with twelve associates to found a uew establishment on
the Cistercian system. The site had been granted to the
abbot Stephen Harding, by Hugo, a knight of Champagne,
who had been previously urged by devotional feeling to
undertake a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, and who
subsequently joined the knights templars. It was a wild
and desolate spot, in the bishopric of Langres. The place
was called, for some unknown reason, the Valley of Worm-
wood, (Vallis Absinthialis) and had been the haunt of
robbers ; but since the extirpation of this plant it had
been called the clear or bright valley, (Clara-vallis) or
Clair- vaux. To found a monastery here Bernard was sent
from Citeaux. The ceremonial observed was simple and
affecting. After a solemn service, the newly-elected abbot
received from the hands of the president of the monastery
a cross ; he then rose, and quitted the church, followed
by his twelve associates, and, having taken leave of the
brethren, the community departed chanting an appropriate
psalm. "When," says the Cistercian Chronicle, "Bernard
and his twelve monks silently took their departure from
the church, you might have seen tears in the eyes of all pre-
sent, while nothing was to be heard but the voices of those
who were singing the hymns ; and even those brethren
could not repress their sobs, in spite of that sense of reli-
gion which led them to make the strongest efforts to com-
mand their feelings. Those who remained, and those
who departed, were all involved in one common sorrow,
till the procession reached that gate which was to open for
some, and to close upon the rest." Ann. Cist. 1. n. 6, 7,
p. 79.
Clairvaux and Morimont, founded in 1115, with the
abbeys of La Ferto and Pontigny, established the one in
the year 1113, the other in 1114, were called Les quatres
filles de Citeaux.
The work in which they were engaged was no easy task,
and no very agreeable duty : the privations to which the
284 BERNARD.
poor monks were obliged for many months to submit are
almost unheard of. Incessantly occupied in the erection
of their monastic buildings, they had no opportunity of
gaining their bread by their labours ; and, as they had
taken possession of the marshy desert that had been given
up to them too late for sowing the ground, the earth of
course yielded them no fruits : and the neighbouring pro-
prietors, who had at first testified great admiration at the
conduct of the devotees, and vied with each other in ad-
ministering to their wants, became equally familiar with
their sanctity and their necessities, and ceased to regard
either. A coarse bread made of barley and millet, and
beech leaves cooked in salt and water, formed their only
nourishment ; and this, too, at the beginning of the winter
season. At last their supply of salt was exhausted, and
the hearts of some of the fraternity began to fail them ;
but Bernard, calling to him one of the brethren, desired
him to take the ass and buy salt at the market. The man
prepared to do the bidding of his superior, but before he
set out he asked for money to pay for the commodity.
" Take faith," replied Bernard, "for as to money I know
not when we shall have any ; but He who holds my purse
in His hands, and who is the depository of my treasure, is
above." The monk smiled, and rejoined, " It seemeth to
me, my father, that if I go empty handed, I shall return
empty handed." " Nevertheless, go," replied the abbot ;
" and go in faith. I tell thee that our Great Treasurer
will be with thee, and will supply all thy necessities."
On this the poor friar, after receiving the benediction of
his superior, set out with the ass on his journey. On his
way "the God of all consolation was pleased to assist him,
says the chronicler ; for, meeting a priest who accosted
him, and inquired his business, Guibert (for that was the
name of the messenger) told his errand, and made known
the penury of his convent ; and the priest, touched with
compassion, took him to his own home, and supplied him
abundantly with all sorts of provisions. On Guibert's
return with his replenished panniers, Bernard said to him,
BERNARD. 285
" I tell you, my son, nothing is more necessary to a Chris-
tian than faith : hold fast faith, and it will be well with
thee all the days of thy life." These succours, and others
equally unexpected, were however merely temporary, and
Clairvaux soon relapsed into a condition of absolute desti-
tution. The monks, exposed to cold and hunger and
other privations, gave themselves up to despair, and openly
manifested their wish of returning to Citeaux. Bernard
himself was so far overpowered by witnessing the moral
and personal sufferings of his brethren, that his health gave
way, and he became incapable of preaching to them, and
they were thus deprived at once of bodily and of spiritual
sustenance. This state of things, which lasted sixteen or
seventeen months, required all the influence and exertion
of Bernard to prevent the utter dissolution of the infant
establishment, and to turn this severe trial to the advan-
tage of his brethren. At the expiration of this term many
rich offerings were made to the convent, and the ground
first broken by the labours of the starving monks, began
to yield them her fruit, and to supply their most urgent
necessities.
Of this monastery Bernard became the first abbot, and
by his energy, talent and self-denial, which seemed in the
eyes of his contemporaries to be miraculous, he soon ren-
dered the Cistercian order celebrated : nine abbeys in the
short space of five years sprung from Citeaux, and a con-
stitution was formed for the rising order. Men of illus-
trious descent, who had formerly played a distinguished
part on the theatre of the world, now by their hard labour,
in the sweat of their brow, and by their ascetic self-denial,
followed the example of Bernard. The most costly offer-
ings were presented to the convent, and prepared for
Clairvaux the great wealth that in the course of some
decades of years it acquired.
" The wealth of the convents," as Neander remarks, " was
advantageous to the state, because the monks knew how to
make the best use of it. In times of scarcity they often
supplied hundreds of the poor with food. On occasion of
286 BERNARD.
a great scarcity in Burgundy, the starving peasants nocked
in such numbers to Clairvaux, that Bernard, finding he
could not hope to afford nourishment to all till the next
harvest, selected tivo thousand, whom he distinguished by
a particular mark (accepit sub signaculo), and engaged to
support entirely, while the rest received some smaller alms.
V. Joh. Eremit. vit. Bernard, lib. ii. N. 6. ap. Mabill. t, ii.
The monks of the Prsemonstratensian abbey, founded by
Norbert, undertook, in his absence, to supply five hundred
poor persons with food during a scarcity. V. vit. Norbert.
The clergy in general promoted the exercise of benevolence.
The highly-esteemed Hugh, bishop of Grenoble, finding
his resources inadequate to support the numbers who
resorted to him during a famine, sold all his costly
church plate, to buy food for them. Bernard instructed his
friend the count Theobald, " eleemosynas ea sagacitate
dispone re, ut semper fructificantes redivivis et renascen-
tibus accessionibus novas semper eleemosynas parturiunt,"
1. ii. auct. Ernald. cap. viii. N. 52."
The extreme mortifications of Bernard impaired his
health so much, that on one occasion William of Cham-
peaux, bishop of Chalons-sur-Marne, to whom he applied
for abbatical ordination, interfered, and obtained from the
Cistercian chapter the superintendence of his friend for
one year. He caused a sort of hut to be erected for him
beyond the cloisters, where he was to remain for a year,
without interfering in any way with the affairs of the
monastery: but it does not appear from the account which
is given of his retreat by his friend the abbot, William of
St. Thierry, he was much benefited by the change."
"It was," says he, "about this time (1116) that my
visits to Clairvaux commenced, and, coming to see the
saint in company with another abbot, I found him in
his cell, which was similar to those usually assigned to
leprous persons on the highways. He had been re-
lieved from the presidence of the convent by the com-
mands of the bishop and the chapter, and was then
enjoying a state of perfect tranquillity, living to God, and
BERNARD. 287
transported with joy, as though he had already tasted the
delights of Paradise. When I entered this chamber of
royalty, and began to contemplate the lodgings and the
guest, I was penetrated with the most profound respect ;
and, on entering into conversation with this man, I found
such vivacity and such a sweetness in his discourse, that
I conceived a strong desire to remain with him, and to
share his poverty ; so that, if I could have chosen my lot
among all the world has to offer, I should have desired
none other than that of staying always with the man of
God as his servitor.
" After he had welcomed us with gracious kindness, we
proceeded to ask what he did, and how he passed his life in
this cell. He replied with that benevolent smile which is
habitual to him, ' I do well, very well here ; for formerly
reasonable beings submitted themselves to my orders ;
now, by the just judgment of God, I am obliged to submit
myself to a man devoid of reason. ' This he said in refer-
ence to a conceited quack who had boastfully engaged to
cure him, and to whose charge he had been committed by
the bishop and the community. We sat at table with
him, expecting to find him under the strictest regimen for
the re-establishment of his precious health, so essential to
all; but when we saw him served, and by the doctor's
orders, with viands so coarse and revolting (lumps of
rancid butter coustituted part of the fare), that a hungry
person in good health would scarcely be persuaded to touch
them, we were indignant, and our vow of silence alone
withheld us from treating this empiric as a murderer and
sacrilegious person. For the man of God, he was indif-
ferent to these things, having lost all power of discrimin-
ating the flavour of meats, his stomach being entirely dis-
ordered, and incapable of performing its functions." (It
appears from the details that Bernard had cempletely lost
the power of digesting any sort of food.)
" Such was the state in which I found this servant of
Jesus Christ; such was his manner of life in his solitude ;
288 BERNARD.
but he was not alone, — God and His holy angels were
with him."
Of the diet commonly observed at Clairvaux, we have
an account in the record of the visit of pope Innocent : —
" The bread, instead of being of fine wheaten flour, was
of bran mingled with flour ; instead of sweet wine, there
was the juice of herbs (sap a, evidently the modem soup) ;
and, in the place of all kinds of meat, there was nothing
but vegetables ; or if, by chance, there happened to be any
fish, it was placed before our lord the pope, rather to be
looked at than to be eaten." Ernald. cap. i. No. 6, p. 1109.
The following is a copy of a translation of the Benedic-
tine rule, given by Fosbrooke : —
" Abbot to represent Christ — to call all his monks to
council in important affairs, and afterwards adopt the
advice he thought best. Obedience without delay ; silence ;
no sensuality, idle words, or such as excite laughter;
humility; patience in all injuries ; manifestation of secret
faults to the abbot ; contentment with the meanest things
and employments ; not to speak unasked ; to avoid laugh-
ter ; head and eyes inclined downwards ; to rise to church
two hours after midnight; every week the psalter to be
sung through ; to leave the church altogether, at a sign
from the superior ; a dean over every ten monks in large
houses ; light in the dormitory ; to sleep clothed, with
their girdles on, the young and old intermixed. Upon
successless admonition and public reprehension, excom-
munication; and, in failure of this, personal chastise-
ment. For light faults, the smaller excommunication,
or eating alone after the others had done ; for great faults,
separation from the table, prayers, and society, and
neither himself nor food to receive the benediction ; those
who joined him, or spoke to him, to be themselves ex-
communicated ; the abbot to send seniors to persuaJe
him to humility, and making satisfaction; the whole con-
gregation to pray for the offender, and, if successless,
to proceed to expulsion. No person expelled to be
BERNARD. 289
received after the third expulsion. Children to be
punished by fasting or whipping. Cellarer to do nothing
without the abbofs order, and in large houses to have
assistants. Habits and goods of the house to be in the
hands of proper officers, the abbot to have an account of
them. No property; distribution according to every one's
necessities. The monks to serve weekly, and by turns, at
the kitchen and table. On leaving their week, he that
leaves and he that begins it, to wash the feet of the others,
and on Saturday to clean all the plates, and the linen
which wiped the others' feet. To resign the dishes clean
and whole to the cellarer, who delivers them to the new
hebdomadary. Those officers to have drink and food
above the common allowance, before the others, that they
may wait upon them cheerfully. The hebdomadaries,
both entering and retiring from office, were, on solemn
days, to continue till the masses ; after matins on the
Sunday, to kneel and beg the others to pray for them ;
then, those going out, to say a certain prayer three times,
and receive the benediction ; the one coming in to do the
same, and, after benediction, to enter into office.
" Infirmary — its offices. Use of the baths, and flesh
for the sick ordered. Rule mitigated to children and old
men, who had leave to anticipate the hours of eating.
Refection in silence, and reading Scripture during meals.
"What was wanted, to be asked for by a sign. Reader to be
appointed for the week. Two different dishes at dinner,
with fruit. One pound of bread a-day, for both dinner
and supper. No meat but to the sick. Three-quarters
of a pint of wine daily. From Holyrood to Lent, dine at
nones ; in Lent till Easter, at six o'clock ; from Easter to
Lentward, at sextand all summer, except on Wednesdays
and Fridays, then at nones. Collation or spiritual lecture
every i ight before complin (after supper), and, complin
finished, silence. Loss of rank, subtraction of wine or
their allowance, or sitting in the place of disgrace, for
tardiness at church or table. Prostration with the face to
vol. ii -2 b
290 BERNARD
the ground, without the church gate, when the monks
went to pray, for the excommunicated. Immediate pardon
to be sought for. A fault in the chant, faults in other
places, or breaking anything, to be spontaneously acknow-
ledged before the abbot and congregation. Abbot to give
the signal for goiug to church, and nobody to sing or read
there without his leave. Work from prime till near ten
o'clock; from Easter till Cal. October, from ten till near
twelve, reading. After refection, at twelve the meridian
or sleep, unless any one preferred reading. After nones,
labour again till the evening. From Cal. Oct. to Lent,
reading till eight a. m. ; then trine, and after labour till
nones. After refection, reading or psalmody. In Lent,
reading till trine ; doing what was ordered till ten ; deli-
very of the books at this season made. Senior to go
round the house, and see that the monks were not idle.
On Sunday all read, except the officers, and the idle and
the infirm, who had work given them. Particular abstin-
ence in Lent from meat, drink, and sleep, and especial
gravity. Monks travelling, to say the canonical hours
wherever they may happen to be. Monks staying out
beyond a day not to eat abroad without the abbot's leave.
No other use than that of prayer to be made of the
church. Strangers to be received with prayers by them
and the monks ; the kiss of peace, prostration, and wash-
ing their feet, as of Christ, whom they represented ; then
to be led to prayer, the Scriptures read to them ; after
which the prior might break his fast (except on a high
fast.) Abbot's kitchen distinct from that of the visitors,
so that the monks might not be disturbed by the entrance
of guests at unreasonable hours. No letters or presents
to be received without the abbot's leave. Abbot to invite
his monks when he had no strangers. Workmen in the
house to labour for the common profit. Novices to be
tried by denial and hard labour before admission ; rule
read to them in the interim every fourth month ; admitted
by a petition laid upon the altar, and prostration at the
BERNARD. S91
feet of all the monks. Parents to offer their children
by wrapping their hands in the pall of the altar, pro-
mising to leave nothing to them ; and, if they gave any-
thing with them, reserving the use of it during their lives.
Priests requesting admission to be tried by delays ; to sit
near the abbot, but not to exercise sacerdotal functions
without leave, and to conform to the rule. Strange
monks to be received, and if good, entreated to stay.
Monks ordained priests, to be subject to the rule and
officers, or else expelled. Precedence, according to the
time of profession. Elders to call the juniors brothers,
the juniors to call the elders nonnos ; the abbot Dominus
or Peter. When two monks met, the junior was to ask
benediction of the senior ; and when he passed by, the
junior was to rise and give him his seat, nor to sit till he
had time. Abbot to be elected by the whole society, and
plurality of votes, his life and prudence to be the qualifi-
cations. Prior elected by the abbot, deposable for dis-
obedience. Porter to be a wise old man, able to give and
receive an answer ; he was to have a cell near the gate,
and a junior for a companion. If possible to prevent
evagation ; water, mill, garden, oven, and all other mecha-
nical shops, to be within the house. Monks going on a
journey to have previous prayers of the house, and on
return to pray for pardon of excesses by the way. Impos-
sible things ordered by the superior to be humbly repre-
sented to him ; but if he persisted, the assistance of God
to be relied on for their execution. Not to defend or
excuse one another's faults. No blows or excommunica-
tion without the permission of the abbot. Mutual obedi-
ence, but no preference of a private person's commands
over those of a superior. Prostration at the feet of the
superiors as long as they were angry." Sanctorum Pa-
trum Reg. Monast. Louv. 12mo. 1571, fol. 9. 51. Job.
de Turrecremata. Concordia Regularum, &c. &c.
After his return to the monastery, Bernard found it
necessary to relax somewhat of his austerity, and in after
years regretted the excesses to which his enthusiasm had
292 BERNARD.
led him, as tending to interfere with his usefulness by
unduly reducing his strength. He was indeed called to
active life at an early age, his opinion, advice, and medi-
ation being sought by all persons and all classes, and his
energetic mind thrusting him forward upon every occasion
when the welfare of the Church was concerned.
The influence of Bernard over the minds of men of all
classes seems to have been perfectly marvellous, and must
in part be accounted for by the fact, that he lived up to
the standard of religious excellence which was at that
time set before the minds of men, so far as the infirmities
of human nature would permit. He was single-minded,
he had no selfish objects in view ; his simple desire was
to promote the interests of religion, and maintain the
purity and independence of the Church, and this he was
prepared to do at all hazards against monarchs and
against the pope himself. He was fearless of man, and of
his integrity no one could entertain a doubt. It is aston-
ishing what one man may do, if he can obliterate every
selfish feeling and motive. Then again, his extreme
vivacity and the fiery energy of his manner produced such
an impression upon the minds of men, even of those who
only saw him and heard nothing but the sound of his
voice, that, as it is related in his life, when he preached to
the Germans, they were moved to tears by his exhorta-
tions without having understood a single word of the
language in which they were uttered. The thinness of
his slightly built frame, only made people think of the
precious soul which that frail earthen vessel contained.
His neck especially was very long and delicate, and his
personal appearance such as to attract attention. We
have an instance on record of the manner in which he
turned this to advantage on a particular occasion : when at
a later period of life he had been preaching at Toulouse,
at the conclusion of his sermon, he was about to mount
his horse, when one of the sectaries came forward, and
called aloud to him, " Know, my lord abbot, that the
horse of our master, against whom you have been speaking
BERNARD. 293
so freely, is by no means so fat and well-conditioned as
yours." Bernard, without manifesting the least disturb-
ance, replied with a good-humoured glance at the man,
" I do not deny it, my friend; but I would thou shouldst
remember that this is a boast for the which thou dost
reprove me. Now, to be fat and well-conditioned is suit-
able to the nature and appointment of beasts ; and God,
who will not judge us for such matters, is not thereby
offended ; but every man shall answer for himself." And
so saying, he threw back his cowl, and discovered his
wasted throat, and thin and withered countenance ; and
this was to the people the most conclusive refutation of
the sectarian.
No restraint was felt by Bernard in addressing persons
of higher station in thp. Church than himself, and simple
monk, as he was, he did not feel that he was stepping out
of his line when, for the good of the Church, he thought
it expedient to admonish bishops and archbishops. We
have an instance of this in the case of Henry of Sens, one
of the most distinguished of the French prelates, who on
his determining to amend his life, which had not been
strictly episcopal, received from Bernard a treatise on the
duties of a bishop. Such was the object of Bernard's
work, De moribus et officio Episcoporum. He first draws
the character of a true priest, who, by a genuine spiritual
life becomes an example to his flock. "Is it fitting," he
says, " that the shepherd should, like the animals, follow
the sensual appetites, that he should cleave to the vilest
things, and seek after earthly matters ? And not rather,
standing erect like a man, look up by the Spirit into
heaven, in search of the Supreme God ?" He then repre-
sents the vocation of a Christian priest, as it appeared to
him in that age. " As a good mediator he brings to God
the prayers and pious purposes of the congregation, and
conveys back to them the blessing and the grace of God ;
he implores the Supreme Being for the forgiveness of
sinners, and rebukes sinners for their offences against
God : the unthankful he reminds of God's favours ; the
2b 2
m BERNARD.
blasphemous and despisers, of his inexorable justice ; yet
striving all the while to reconcile their offended God to
them; now exhibiting the weakness of man, and then
dwelling on the greatness of their Heavenly Father's love.
A faithful priest, who regardeth, with dove-like simplicity,
all the wealth that passes through his hands, whether it
be of ' the dew of heaven from above, ' or the vows of men
that are offered unto God, keeping back nought for him-
self, and seeking, not the gifts, but the good of his flock ;
not his own glory, but the glory of God."
After having proposed this pattern of a priest and min-
ister, Bernard goes on to rebuke the opposite errors and
abuses ; the pomp of the clergy, especially in their dress,
the costly foreign furs, worn on occasions of ceremony (c. 15),
and their horse furniture, decorated as it was with the
richest ornaments, and glittering with gold and precious
stones. With the most moving earnestness he reminds
them, that what they thus lavish in vain pomp is taken
from the poor. The naked and the hungry complain, and
cry aloud "You are squandering that which belongs to us,
for we also are God s creatures, and the Blood of Christ
was shed for our redemption as well as yours." " If,"
says Bernard to the archbishop (c.7), "he be tempted to
pride by his condition, his age, his learning, or the dig-
nity of his episcopal see, he will be straightway humbled,
and filled with dread by the consciousness of the respon-
sibility of his calling ; and indeed, it is only because men
are prevented by the glare of the splendour which sur-
rounds them, from discerning their duties and burdens,
that they press forward to the highest ecclesiastical
offices. " Here he manifests his displeasure at the traffic
which is carried on in holy things. " School-boys and
beardless youths, whose birth is their only merit, are
promoted to ecclesiastical dignities — boys who rejoice in
these chiefly as a means of escaping from the rod. And
what is yet more wonderful, the clergy themselves, im-
pelled only by covetousness and ambition, overlook their
duties and burdens in their eager seeking after higher
BERNARD. 295
dignities. Is one a bishop, he then aspires to an arch-
bishopric ; has he attained that, he then dreams of some-
thing still higher, and by tedious journeys and costly
friendships, seeks to purchase partizans at the court of
Rome. Some endeavour to get all privileges at once.
Under the pretext of extending their dioceses beyond
their proper limits, they appropriate to themselves that
which does not belong to them, and alas ! even on the veiy
threslilwld of the Apostles, they find men capable of favour-
ing their evil purposes : not that the Romans take any
great interest in the result of the business, but because they
gladly receive the bribes that it brings with it." By the
side of this greedy ambition, Bernard places the affected
humility, with which men entered on the episcopal office,
and which had become a mere formal etiquette. " Verily
(c. 16), as though ye had been forced into the bishopric, ye
did weep and complain of compulsion, and style your-
selves wretched and unworthy, and altogether unmeet for
so holy an office."
It is well for the admirers of the medieval church, to
the disparagement of the church of England, as it now
exists in its reformed state, to learn the character of
medieval ecclesiastics from statements such as these; We
are by no means among those who would depreciate those
times : virtues then flourished which we are unable to
equal, but vices also prevailed from which we are happily
liberated ; and when we complain of either the worldliness
or the ignorance of our bishops, if the charge can be sub-
stantiated, we must not forget that worldliness and ignor-
ance prevailed also in the middle ages, and as then, so
now, the learning and the disinterestedness of many are
to be dwelt upon with thankfulness, and are to be placed
in contrast with the faults of those who form, it is always
to be hoped, the exception to the rule. We would not
depreciate the past ages by comparison with the present,
or the present by comparison with the past. Each has its
peculiar virtues, and its peculiar faults.
Nor did Bernard spare the papal court. A quarrel
296 BERNARD.
having ensued between Louis the Sixth, king of France,
and the clergy of the Gallican church, the latter laid the
kingdom under an interdict, and the king procured the
pope's authority for the removal of the interdict : for the
popes as often interfered to impede as to support the dis-
cipline of the Church, and it had been long since disco-
vered by the worldly-wise, that at the Romish court it was
not exactly the interests of the Church which had the
ascendancy. Bernard boldly complained to the pope in
his own name and in that of many other persons ; and
although his representations had then effect, he received
a significant hint from the papal chancellor, Haimerich,
that " he should no longer trouble himself so much with
the affairs of the world, since this was unbecoming a
monk." Bernard, in justifying himself, and while express-
ing the greatest possible deference to the see of Rome,
took occasion to utter some home-truths to the papal
court ; concluding his vindication with the remark, that
41 even if we were to hide ourselves and hold our peace,
the murmurs of the Church would still continue, while
the court of Rome continues to give judgment according
to the wishes of those who are present, rather than the
rights of those who are absent." He professed his disin-
clination at the same time to join in these controversies ;
and we are to remember of Bernard, that his great exter-
nal activity was never permitted to interfere with the
inward life of his contemplative nature : he was always
striving, says Neander, to impart to others, both by his
writings and discourses, some portion of the spirit by
which he was himself replenished. As a specimen of his
pious meditations, and in evidence of his profoundly
religious spirit, the following extract is given from his
epistle to Hugh, prior of the Carthusians :
" Love is that eternal, creating, and ruling law, by
which all things were made in their appointed measure,
number, and weight; and there is nothing without
law, for even the law of all things is subject to a law,
although indeed it be to its own law, through which,
BERNARD. 297
though it did not indeed create, yet it rules the world.
But the slaves and hirelings have not received their law
from the Lord, but from themselves, while they love more
than God that which is not God. Thus have they re-
ceived a self-imposed law, differing from the law of God,
and yet subject to it, since they cannot withdraw it from
the unchangeable ordinances of God. That is to say, that
every creature hath, by preferring his own will to the
eternal and universal law, and by thus striving by crooked
ways to imitate the Creator, made a bye-law for himself.
Now it was the effect of God's eternal and righteous law
that those creatures that would not submit to be governed
by God in the enjoyment of holiness, should be overruled
by themselves to their own punishment ; and, as they had
voluntarily cast away the light and pleasant yoke of love,
so must they perforce and involuntarily bear the heavy
burden of their own will. Whereas we are first fleshly,
our desires and our love must be brought out of the flesh,
and when they have taken the right direction, they shall
by the aid of grace, ascending by certain and sure degrees,
at last be perfected in the spirit. At first man loves
himself for his own sake, but when he becomes conscious
that he cannot exist by himself, he begins to seek after
and to love God, as necessary to the support of his exist-
ence : at this second step man loves God indeed, but it
is for his own sake, and not in obedience to the will of
God. But when he hath once begun to raise his thoughts
to God, to pray to Him, to obey Him, though it be from
selfishness, God reveals Himself to him by degrees in
this confidential intercourse. He wins his love, and so
having tasted the good will of the Lord, man passes to the
third step, to love God for God's sake, and on this step
he remaineth ; for I know not whether any man hath in
this life ever reached the fourth step altogether — namely,
to love himself only for God's sake. But this shall come
to pass when the faithful servants shall have entered into
the joy of their Lord ; then, satiated with the riches of the
house of God, and forgetful of themselves, they shall, in a
298 BERNARD.
wonderful manner, be wholly merged in God, and united
with Him in one spirit."
Vain indeed is all zeal for religion, unless there be an
austere regulation of the inward man ; zeal without love
is a mere human passion, and may make men persecu-
tors, but will never make them saints.
Bernard was called forth from his retirement by the
very power which, when he acted counter to its interests,
sought to compel him to retire. It was by the express
command of Matthew of Alba, the papal legate, that he
unwillingly took part in the deliberations of the council
which assembled at Troyes in 1128, where the order of
knights templars received its more settled form. It had
in a manner existed from the year 1118, when nine men
of illustrious descent, united for the purpose of keeping
the road to the Holy Sepulchre open for pilgrims, and
consecrated their lives to the service ; taking the vows of
canons regular before the patriarch of Jerusalem. They
derived their title, Knights Templars, or Knights of the
Temple, from their place of residence, which was the site
of Solomon's Temple. For ten years the association
existed without a fixed rule, or any addition "to their
number. But at the council of Troyes they received their
rule ; and 'through the recommendation and influence of
Bernard, the order was greatly extended. He even wrote
in their favour, and his " Commendation of the New
Order of Knighthood," Liber de Laude Novae Militias
Templi, was written at the request of Hugo-a-Paganis,
the first grandmaster.
But the energies of Bernard's mind were employed
even in the minor controversies between the monks of his
own order and the Cluniacs, whom he accused of various
deviations from the Benedictine rule, and of unnecessary
expense, not only in their domestic arrangements, but in
the decorations of their churches. Peter the Venerable
was abbot of Clugni, and he signalized his Christian
moderation and gentleness in composing the differences
between the rival orders. Bernard had attacked the
BERNARD. 299
Cluniacs with his usual unsparing vigor, and Peter the
Venerable had defended them with judgment, but with
determination. A misunderstanding between the abbots
arose more than once, but they were united by feelings of
friendship and respect, and it is pleasant to read the
following letter written at a later period by Bernard to
Peter :
"What are you about, my good man? you laud a
sinner and beatify a miserable creature. You must add a
prayer, that I may not be led into temptation. For I
shall be led into it, if, feeling complacency in such com-
pliments, I begin not to know myself. How happy now
might I be, if words could make me happy. Happy never-
theless I shall call myself, but in your regard, not in my
own praises. Happy that I am loved by, and that I love,
you. Though indeed this morsel, sweet as it is to me,
must be a little modified. Do you wonder why ? It is
because I do not see what claim I have to such affection,
especially from such a man. You know, however, that to
desire to be more beloved than one deserves is unjust. I
would that I might be enabled to imitate, as well as to
admire, that mark of humility. I would that I might
enjoy your holy and desired presence, I do not say always,
or even often, but at least once a year. I think I should
never return empty. I should not, I say, look in vain at
a pattern of discipline, a mirror of holiness. And (that
which, I confess, I have as yet but too little learned of
Christ) I should not quite in vain have before my eyes
your example of meekness and lowliness of heart. But if
I go on to do to you what I have complained of your
doing to me, though I may speak the truth, yet I shall
act contrary to the word of truth, which commands us not
to do to others what we would not that they should do to
us. Therefore let me now reply to the little request with
which you concluded your letter. He whom you order to
be sent to you is not at present with me, but with the
bishop of Auxerre, and so ill, that he could not, without
great inconvenience, come either to me or to you."
300 BERNARD.
A schism existed in the papacy about this time, car-
dinal Gregorio having been elected pope by one party, by
the name of Innocent the Second ; and cardinal Petrus
Leonis, who took the name of Anacletus the Second,
having been elected by another party. The decision of
the rival claims of the respective popes was remitted by
king Louis to his bishops, and they accordingly assembled
at Etampes for this purpose in 1130. To the council the
abbot of Clairvaux was summoned. The case was left
entirely in his hands, and his decision in favour of Inno-
cent was unanimously deemed conclusive : a fact which is
less surprising, when we are informed that the members
of the council were already predisposed in favour of
Innocent. It was one of those circumstances which ren-
dered Bernard so powerful, that his constitutional cast of
thought and feeling was in harmony with the spirit of the
age, and it was generally felt that when he was consulted
he would come to the conclusion which would commend
itself to the judgment of the vast majority of his contem-
poraries. Bernard was not of a disposition to patronize
Innocent by halves, but as through him France had been
induced to regard him as the true pope, the indefatigable
abbot never rested in his exertion until he had secured
his recognition in other regions of the West. His labours,
especially in Italy, were great, and while kings and pre-
lates were ready to defer to him, his popularity among the
common people was such, that wherever he appeared they
crowded around him, and almost worshipped him as a saint.
At Milan, we are told " that at his nod all gold and silver
ornaments were removed from the churches, and shut up
in chests, as being offensive to the holy abbot ; men and
women clothed themselves either in hair-cloth, or in the
meanest woollen garments," and did whatever he directed.
They earnestly desired to detain him among them as
their metropolitan, and entreated his acceptance of the
archiepiscopal office, but Bernard had long since deter-
mined on refusing any elevated post in the Church,
choosing rather, as a simple monk, to have the guidance
BERNARD. 301
of princes and prelates, than to become either bishop or
pope himself. At the same time we have to regret that
Bernard was one of those who, with the best intentions,
advocated the papal supremacy, and entertained the idea
of there being a universal bishop, to whom all other
bishops ought to submit.
In 1135 Bernard set out from Italy on his return to
France. On his passage over the Alps he was met by
crowds of shepherds and peasants, who came to receive
his blessing. His return through the north of Italy,
Switzerland, and France, resembled a royal progress.
At the gates of Placentia he was received by the bishop
and clergy, who conducted him in solemn procession into
their city. At Florence he met with a similar reception.
The shepherds of the Alps forsook their flocks to come
and ask his benediction. From Besangon he was solemnly
escorted to Langres, and at a short distance from that city
he found his brethren from Clairvaux, who had hastened
to meet him on the news of his approach. " They fell on
his neck, they embraced his knees, they spoke to him by
turns, and full of joyous exultation they accompanied him
to Clairvaux," says the Annalist of Citeaux.
It was soon after Bernard's return, that the rebuilding
of Clairvaux commenced. The monastery was no longer
capable of containing the numbers who nocked to it for
admission ; a hundred novices, principally from the banks
of the Rhine, where Bernard had preached the preceding
year, had been recently received, and the original builcling;
placed in the angle formed by two hills, could not be
enlarged so as to accommodate them. It was necessary
to pull it down and rebuild it entirely. The expense of
so vast an undertaking weighed heavily on the mind of
Bernard. " Remember," he said to his monks, " remem-
ber the labour and cost of our present house, with what
infinite pains did we at last succeed in constructing aque-
ducts to bring water into our offices and workshops ; and
what would now be said of us if we were to destroy our
vol. n. 2 c
302 BERNARD.
own work ? We should be counted fools, and with reason,
since we have no money. Let us not then forget that
word of the Gospel, ' that he who would build a tower,
must first sit down and calculate the cost.' " To this the
brethren replied, " You must either repulse those who are
sent to you by God, or you must build lodgings for them ;
and surely we should be truly miserable, if through fear
of the expense we were to oppose any obstacles to the
development of God's work." The abbot, touched by these
representations, yielded to the general wishes of the com-
munity, offerings flowed in from all parts, and the build-
ings advanced with incredible rapidity. Thibaut, count
of Champagne, granted the charter of this second founda-
tion in the year 1135, and with his daughter Matilda,
countess of Flanders, and her husband, Philip, who were
subsequently buried at Clairvaux, contributed largely to
the endowment, as well as Ermengarde, countess of
Bretagne. It is described in the deed of enrollment,
as " in Banno Morasma quae vocatur Bellum Pratum."
In the hill situate to the west of this valley, was
a spring of clear water, which after making its way
to the meadows below, lost itself under ground, and at
a little distance re-appeared ; and it was at this point
that the new monastery was erected. The monks had
timber at hand for their buildings, for the forest of
Clairvaux is stated to have been 7000 toises in length,
and 3000 in breadth, that is, about eight miles long and
three broad.
Of Bernard, in his retirement and as abbot of Clairvaux,
we have the following interesting account :
In spite of the delicacy of his health, Bernard was
in the habit of preaching every day to his monks. His
eloquence, according to the statement of his contempo-
raries, was overpowering. His voice, though wreak, was
wonderfully flexible and melodious, and its effect was
enhanced by a countenance which expressed every emotion
of his sensitive heart. It is said that we owe the discourses
BERNARD. 808
which have come down to us, to the care of the monks,
who wrote them as he delivered them.
It was during this interval of retirement in his " beloved
Jerusalem," as Bernard was accustomed to call Clairvaux:
that he composed his sermons on the Canticles ; in which,
says Milner, " we have laid before us the inward soul of
a saint of the 12th century, confessing and describing the
vicissitudes of spiritual consolation and declension :
which, with more or less variety, are known to real Chris-
tians in all ages of the Church." They were preached
to his brethren at the daily service, and it appears from
one of his letters that he was led to make choice of
this divine book as the text of his discourses, from his
own intimate consciousness of the force of divine Jove
as a motive of action. " For myself," says Bernard, " I
serve God freely, because I serve him from love, and
it is to the practice of this love that I exhort you, my
beloved and dear children. Serve God with love, with
that perfect love which casteth out fear, which feels not
the burden of the day, which counts not the cost of the
labour, which works not for wages, and which is yet the
most powerful motive of action." " We must," he saye
elsewhere, " regard rather the affections than the expres-
sions in the Song of Songs. Love is the speaker through-
out, and if any one wish to understand it, it must be by
love. He who loveth not, will in vain approach either to
hear or to read, for this discourse of fire can never be
apprehended by a heart of ice." " This sweet colloquy
requireth chaste ears, and in the loving ones whom it
pourtrayeth do not represent to yourselves a man and
woman, but the Word and the soul, Jesus Christ and the
Church, which is the same thing, except that the Church,
instead of one soul, denotes the unity of many." During
the rebuilding of the abbey, Bernard lived in a green ar-
bour, which he had erected in the most retired part of the
valley, and there it was his wont to meditate on the sub-
jects of his discourses, which were often preached extem-
pore, after being prepared hy meditation and prayer. He
304 BERNARD.
was interrupted by a second call to Italy, but resumed the
subject on his return ; and it was soon after this, that he
had to deplore the loss of his favourite brother Gerard,
the companion of all his journey ings, who died trium-
phantly in his arms, chanting a psalm of thanksgiving, on
the 13th of April, 1139. Like David, Bernard had given
way to his grief while Gerard was languishing and dying,
but when all was over, he stifled every sign of feeling, and
even presided at the funeral rites with an air of the most
profound calmness and insensibility, while all around him
were dissolved in tears ; a circumstance the more remarked
by his brethren, because he had ever before wept over
every monk whom he had lost, with the tenderness
of a mother. At the accustomed hour, Bernard, who
never suffered any circumstances to interrupt the per-
formance of his religious duties, mounted the pulpit as
usual, and continued the exposition of the Canticles ; but
on a sudden he stopped, overcome by his feelings, and
almost suffocated by the grief he had repressed; then
after a pause he continued, and the tribute he paid to his
brother in this unpremeditated funeral oration affords
a lively portrait of his own affectionate character.
Without referring to some of those slighter traits which
might be alluded to as characterizing Bernard's activity
at this epoch of his life, for he was not permitted to
remain long in retirement, we must allude to his contro-
versy with the notorious Abelard, and his opposition to
the system of treating theological subjects which was at
this period introduced. A taste for philosophical studies
had now spread itself among theologians, and there grew
up a scholastic, as distinguished from positive or tradition-
ary theology, which for four centuries continued to engage
the attention of eminent men in the Church. From the
beginning of the twelfth century, Paris became the chief
seat of the new science, and Abelard its favourite doctor.
In the first of the periods into which the scholastic
theology maybe divided, its disciples contented themselves
with a dialectic treatment of the received system of the
BERNARD.
Church, but Abelard became bolder, and the further he
pushed his irreverent speculations, the greater was the
enthusiasm of his scholars. He was led by his profane
and irreverent speculations into many heresies, asserting
that the mysteries of faith are subject to reason, and
holding, with reference to the Trinity, views nearly
approaching to modern Socinianism. On the person of
Christ he agreed with the Xestorians ; and with the
Pelagians, in the opinion that His death was not the price
of our redemption, but that He was only an example of
patience, perseverance, charity, and virtue. His Intro-
ductio ad Theologiam was condemned, by the synod of
Soissons, in 1121. But his condemnation only served
to increase his fame among his self-willed disciples, who
followed him in great numbers to his retirement near
Xogent. Abelard, thus supported, after a little time
resumed the teaching of his heterodoxies, and his philoso-
phy was diffused beyond the Alps and the seas, by his
writings and by his enthusiastic scholars.
It was on Bernard's return to Clairvaux, after his last
visit to Rome, that his attention was called to this dis-
tinctive philosophy by his friend the abbot of St Thierry,
who wrote to urge him to exert himself in the cause of
the " faith, of our common hope, now grievously and dan-
gerously corrupted." With his letter he sent Abelard's
" Theology," to which he had appended his own remarks.
It would appear from this letter that Bernard had been
at first favourably inclined towards Abelard, for the abbot
William thus concludes his letter : " If I can convince
you that I am justly moved, I trust that you also will be
moved, and in an important cause like this, will not fear
to part with him, though he be afoot, a hand, or an eye.
I myself have loved him, and wish to do so still, God is
my witness ; but in this cause, I see neither relation nor
friend."
The self-distrusting humility of Bernard is fully
evinced in his answer. " I think your zeal both just and
a c2
306 BERNARD.
necessary, and that it was not idle, the book you have sent
me demonstrates .... But as I have not been accus-
tomed to trust to my own judgment, especially on things
of so great importance, I believe the best way would be
for you and me to meet and talk over the subject. Yet
even this, I think, cannot be done till after Easter, lest
the devotions of the holy season be disturbed. I must
beseech you to have patience with me, and to pardon my
silence on the subject, since I was hitherto ignorant of
most, if not all the particulars. As to that which you
exhort me to, God is able to inspire me with His good
Spirit through your prayers."
Having thoroughly investigated the subject, Bernard,
now fully impressed with its awful magnitude, undertook
a journey to visit and privately confer with Abelard. In
these conferences he kindly admonished him of his errors,
and intreated him to correct them. This attempt proving
fruitless, he took two or three persons with him, according
to the precept of the Gospel, and in their presence expos-
tulated with the innovator. Finding all these endeavours
utterly ineffectual, and having proved himself sufficiently
dear from personal malice, or blind precipitation, he
began, as far as he could, to warn the disciples of Abelard
against the errors of their master, and to guard the
Christian world against the growing heresy.
Abelard, whose aim was not truth, but victory, and the
establishment of his own fame, rejoiced in an opportunity
of entering, as he hoped, into a controversy with one so
eminent as St Bernard. A numerous synod being sum-
moned to assemble at Sens in the year 1140, he declared
himself ready to dispute with Bernard, and to refute his
charges. He was ready, with the chivalrous spirit of
a literary knight errant, to maintain his cause. But
Bernard knew that the doctrines of the faith are too
sacred to be converted into subjects for dialectic disputa-
tion : lie knew that the proper course was to have the
opinions of Abelard compared with the indisputable doc-
BERNARD. 307
trines of the Church. They were orthodox or not ; if
orthodox, let him be acquitted ; if not, let him be con-
demned. In the first instance, therefore, Bernard de-
clined the invitation which had been sent him by the
archbishop of Sens. He says, " I declined the challenge,
partly because I was but a youth, and he a man of-war
from his youth ; partly, because I hold it unmeet to
subject matters of faith, which are grounded on sure
and steadfast truth, to the subtleties of human argumen-
tation. I replied that his writings are sufficient to accuse
him, and that it is not my business, but that of the
bishops, whose vocation it is to decide questions of faith.
Notwithstanding, yea, the rather for this answer, he lifted
up his voice, so as to attract many, and assembled his
adherents. I will not relate the things that he wrote of
me to his scholars, but he affirmed everywhere that he
would meet and dispute with me, on the appointed day,
at Sens. The news reached all men, and could not be
hidden from me. At first I disregarded it as idle gossip,
undeserving of credit, but finally I yielded, though with
great reluctance, and with many tears, to the counsel of
my friends ; for, seeing that all men. were preparing them-
selves for the conference as for an encounter of combat-
ants, they feared lest my absence should be a stumbling-
block to the people, and an occasion of triumph to the
adversary, who would wax stronger if none could be found
to oppose him. So I came to the appointed place at the
time appointed, but unprepared, and mindful of those
words of Scripture, ' Do not premeditate how you shall
answer, for it shall be given you in that same hour what
ye shall say ;' and that other, ' The Lord is my helper ;
whom, then, shall I fear ?' "
Bernard proceeded on the principle he had laid down
for himself. The king himself was present at the council,
surrounded by the most eminent prelates of the Gallican
Church, and by all who were distinguished for learning or
pretensions to learning. It was a grand opportunity for
intellectual display, but Bernard was above the tempta-
308 BERNARD.
tion. He declined to argue ; he merely selected certain
passages from the writings of Abelard, and then produced
from the fathers passages by which they were refuted,
Abelard perceived that instead of being a disputant secure
of a faction to applaud him, he was placed as a prisoner
upon his trial : he was therefore silent, and the propo-
sitions from his writings were, as a matter of course,
condemned as heretical. He appealed to the pope : for
all parties, heterodox and orthodox, conspired at this time
in elevating the papal authority. The pope condemned
all the corrupt doctrines of Abelard, together with their
author, who, as a heretic, was enjoined perpetual silence.
For an account of Abelard's retirement to the abbey of
Clugni, his reconciliation with Bernard, his retractation,
penitence, and death, the reader is referred to the life of
Abelard, already given.
About the year 1140, Bernard was involved in an
important controversy concerning what was called the
immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. Several
Churches in France began about that time to celebrate the
festival consecrated to this pretended conception. It is
reported by some authors that it had been introduced into
our own church of England before this period, in con-
sequence of the exhortations of archbishop Anselm. The
Church of Lyons was the first which adopted this new
festival in France, which no sooner came to the knowledge
of St Bernard, than he severely censured the canons of
Lyons on account of this innovation, and opposed the
immaculate conception of the Virgin with the greatest
vigour, as it supposed her to be honoured with a privilege
which belonged to Christ alone. Upon this a warm
contest arose ; some siding with the canons of Lyons, and
adopting the new festival, while others adhered to the
more orthodox sentiments of St Bernard. The contro-
versy, notwithstanding the zeal of the contending parties,
was carried on during this century with a certain degree
of decency and moderation. But in after times, as
Moslieim remarks, when the Dominicans were established
BERNARD. 309
in the academy of Paris, the contest was renewed with the
greatest vehemence, and the same subject was debated on
both sides with the utmost animosity and contention of
mind. The Dominicans declared for St Bernard, while
the academy patronized the canons of Lyons, and adopted
the new festival.
Bernard was soon after taken by surprise when he
heard that his protege and namesake whom, at the re-
quest of Innocent, he had sent to preside over the Cister-
cian monastery at Rome, had been elected pope under the
name of Eugenius the Third. Bernard had been his
spiritual father, and indeed in early life Eugenius had
resigned an honourable and lucrative office in the church
of Pisa, to place himself at Clairvaux under Bernard. The
letter which Bernard addressed the new pope is character-
istic : " I dare no longer," writes Bernard to the new pope,
" call you my son, for the son is become the father, the
father the son; yet I envy you not; for that which is
lacking to me, I trust to obtain in you, for you are my
work. I may call you my son in the spirit, and ' a
wise son is the joy of his father,' (Prov. x. 1.) But
from henceforth you shall no more be called my son, for a
new name have you received, which the Lord Himself
hath given you. This change is from the Most High,
and many shall rejoice thereat. As Simon was turned
into Cephas, and Saul to Paul, so I trust that for you it
shall also be a blessed transformation that has made of
my son Bernard, my father Eugenius. And now that this
change has been made in you, the Lamb's Bride com-
mitted to your care must likewise be changed, and made
better. If you be indeed the Bridegroom's friend, appro-
priate not to yourself His Church, or appropriate it only
so as to be willing to lay down your life for it, in case of
necessity. If you be sent by Christ, you will consider
that you are ' come not to be ministered unto, but to
minister.' Then shall the Church, freed from her bond-
age, and transfigured, shine forth as the beloved of Him
Who is the only object of her desire. But if you, who
310 BERNARD.
have formerly learned to renounce not only your own, but
yourself, should now (which may God forbid !) be found
seeking your own in that which belongeth to Christ, from
whom shall the Church look for that freedom to which
she is entitled ? Confiding, then, more in you than in
any of your predecessors for a long season, the universal
Church rejoiceth, and especially that Church which has
borne you in her bosom, and at whose breast you have
imbibed the new life. And shall I not share the common
joy? Yea, truly, I confess it, J also rejoiced; but in the
moment of rejoicing, fear and trembling seized me, for
though I have laid aside the name of father, yet have I
not laid aside the tender love and anxious solicitude of a
father. You have taken a higher place, but not so safe an
one. ' The place whereon thou standest is holy ground ;'
the place of the first of the apostles ; the place of him
whom God made lord of His house, and ruler of His
kingdom, who is buried in this place to appear as a
witness against you, if in anything you depart from the
way of the Lord. To one who with a clear conscience
could say, ' Silver and gold have I none,' was the Church
committed in her infancy, that taught by his words, and
edified by his example, she might leam to despise all
earthly things."
After exhorting the pope to reprove certain worldly-
minded men on some particular occasion, he continues :
" 0 ! that I might see the Church, before I die, as it was
in the days of the apostles, who made it their business to
win not silver and gold, but souls. How earnestly do I
desire to hear from you, who occupy the apostle's place,
the apostle's sentence, — ' Thy money perish with thee!'
(The answer of Peter to Simon Magus, Acts viii. 26.)
0 ! word of thunder, at which all the enemies of Zion
should arise and flee away ! And this doth your Mother
the Church require of you : for this do her children, small
and great, continually sigh, — namely, that you should
root out every plant which your Heavenly Father hath
not planted ; for you are set over nations and kingdoms to
BERNARD. 211
root out and to destro}', and to build up and to plant.
Yet, in all your undertakings, remember that you are but
a man ; and let the fear of Him who taketh away the
breath of princes, be ever before your eyes. How many
popes have been removed by death, even in your own
time ! Let these, your predecessors, be silent monitors of
the shortness and uncertainty of your own life, and, amid
the flatteries of surrounding royalty, let your thoughts be
ever on your latter end."
Eugenius was involved in great difficulties owing to the
insubordination of the Roman people, excited, as their
passions had been, by the eloquence of Arnold of Brescia,
and Bernard exerted his influence with the emperor to
obtain for him assistance, when the attention of both, and
indeed of the civilized world, was called to an undertaking
of yet greater importance, — the second Crusade.
It was in the year 1145 that information was received
in Europe of the perilous condition of the newly estab-
lished kingdom in the East. Edessa was taken by the
Saracens ; Antioch and Jerusalem were threatened. The
news excited universal sorrow. Louis the Seventh, king
of France, in a penitential spirit, was the first who pre-
pared to arm in defence of the Holy Sepulchre. The
French king's determination was approved by the pope,
Eugenius III ; and Bernard was commissioned to travel
through France and Germany for the purpose of raising
an army of crusaders. The success of Bernard was mar-
vellous. The unwilling emperor, Conrad III, yielded at
length to his impassioned eloquence. In his manage-
ment of Conrad, the tact and good taste of Bernard were
conspicuous. It was at Frankfort-on-Maine that he had
his first private audience. When the emperor then gave
him to understand how little interest he took in the
matter, Bernard pressed the subject no farther, but
awaited another opportunity. After having succeeded in
making peace between several of the princes of the
empire, he preached the crusade publicly, exhorting the
emperor and princes to participate in it, at the diet held
312 BERNARD.
at Christinas in the city of Spires. Three days after this,
he again addressed the emperor in private, and exhorted
him, in a friendly and affectionate manner, not to lose the
opportunity of so short, so easy, and so honourable a mode
of penance. Conrad, already more favourably disposed to
the undertaking, replied that he would advise with his
councillors, and give him an answer on the following day.
The next day Bernard officiated at the holy communion,
to which he unexpectedly added a sermon in reference to
the crusade. Towards the conclusion of his discourse, he
turned to the emperor, and addressed him frankly, as
though he had been a private man. He described the
day of judgment, when the men who had received such
innumerable benefits from God, and yet had refused to
minister to Him to the utmost of their power, would be
left without reply or excuse. He then spoke of the
blessings which God had in such overflowing measure
poured upon the head of Conrad; the highest worldly
dominion, treasures of wealth, gifts of mind and body, till
the emperor, moved even to tears, exclaimed, " I acknow-
ledge the gifts of the divine mercy, and I will no longer
remain ungrateful for them. I am ready for the service
to which He Himself hath exhorted me." x\t these words
a universal shout of joy burst from the assembly ; the
emperor immediately received the cross, and several of
the nobles followed his example. Bernard then took
from the altar the consecrated banner, and delivering it
to the emperor, by whom it was to be carried in person at
the head of the crusaders, he proceeded with him from
the church to his lodgings.
It appears from contemporary records, that one great
difficulty which Bernard had to encounter in preaching the
crusade, originated in the religious societies for the build-
ing of churches, then the great object of popular devotion.
These church building societies were regularly organized,
and persons of both sexes and of all ranks aspired to the
honour of labouring in them. No one could be admitted
till he had reconciled himself to God, by a devout and
BERNARD. 313
humble confession of his sins, a vow of obedience to the
superior of the association, and an engagement to perform
all the offices of charity for the sick. The congregation
then marched over hill and dale, under the conduct of a
priest, and with banner displayed, to the field of their joint
labours. Some curious details on this subject may be
seen in a letter given by Mabillon, Arm. Ord. S. Bernd.
t. vi. p. 392. It was written in the year 1145, by Haimo,
abbot of St Pierre, in Normandy, who saw a magnificent
cathedral rising on the site of his humble parish church.
"Who has ever heard of such a thing?" exclaims the
astonished abbot, " who has ever seen princes, mighty
lords, men-at-arms, and delicate women, bend their necks
to the yoke to which they suffer themselves to be attached
like beasts of draught, so as to move heavy burdens?
Sometimes thousands of them are to be seen fastened to
one machine, of great weight, loaded with wheat, wine, and
oil ; with lime, stone, and all the materials necessary for
the workmen, which they drag from surprising distances.
Nothing stops their progress ; neither hills, valleys, nor
rivers, which they cross as did formerly the people of
God. And what is still more wonderful, this innu-
merable company pursues its march without noise or
confusion. Their voices are never heard except at a
given signal, when they are raised to implore pardon for
their sins, or to chant the praises of God."
It will be evident that these associations, so interest-
ing to the imagination, presented a formidable obstacle
to the successful preaching of the crusade. It must
indeed have been difficult to persuade men who had
consecrated their lives to the advancement of the cause
of religion in their native land, and who were cheered
by the sight of their daily progress, to desert the sacred
work in which they were engaged, for an object of remote
interest and dubious attainment. Yet even this obstacle
was surmounted by the eloquence of Bernard.
In the course of the year a numerous host of crusaders
VOL. II. 2 D
314 BERNARD.
took their departure for the East. The observations of
Neander on this subject are liberal and just, which in one
who professes liberality, is always agreeable, though not
very common. " So powerful," he says, " in this age was
the influence of sensations of devotional remembrance,
that men of all ranks left their goods and their homes,
and were ready to lay down their lives to deliver from the
hands of the infidel those localities which they justly
regarded as the most sacred in the world, from their
having been hallowed by events the most sublime and
touching, and of universal interest; and to open them
again for the access of piety and devotion. It was,
indeed, a mistake to seek by violence and blood, the con-
quest of that place from which peace was to be shed
abroad upon the whole human race ; and these rude
warriors, actuated by devotional sensations which they
but imperfectly understood, and which were inadequately
impressed on their inner being, were often carried away
by the impulses of passion and sensuality : still, in the
enthusiasm which animated the nations for an object
unintelligible to the senses, in the extraordinary efforts
for an extraordinary end, we recognize the traces of man's
illustrious origin. Lowest in the scale [of excellence],
and false in the greatest degree to the primitive nobility
of man, stands he, who, in the coldness of intellect, looks
down upon those times in a spirit of affected compassion,
proceeding not from the overpowering influence of genuine
reality on the mind, but from the circumstance of his
assuming that only to be real, which is, in truth, the very
lowest degree of seeming, and thus regarding as a delusion
what is here the beautiful, the labouring and the venturing
for an object which exists, and is of value, for the heart
alone."
The success of his preaching on this occasion had
evidently an injurious effect upon Bernard's character :
he persuaded others as well as himself that he was pos-
sessed of supernatural powers, and his great reputation
BERNARD. 015
betrayed him into the weakness of displaying himself as
a prophet. He was justly rebuked by the entire failure
of the expedition ; a melancholy result, which spread
dismay among the nations of the West. The disappointed
nobles reproached him as a false and incautious prophet ;
and he attributed the failure to the vices and mismanage-
ment of the princes and knights, who in their lives proved
themselves to be unworthy of being used as instruments
of God s service.
But before the disappointment with respect to the
crusade came upon Bernard, we find him actively engaged
in suppressing the heresy of the Petrobrusians, of whom
it is necessary to give a short account.
In the beginning of the 12th century Pierre de Bruys
made his appearance in the south of France. This heretic
was a man of decided character, determined to carry out
his principles to their legitimate conclusions. Like some
modern heretics, he denied that regeneration is the grace
conferred by the Holy Ghost through the Sacrament of
Baptism ; but unlike them, having embraced an heretical
opinion, he discarded the traditional practice of the
Church, and rejected infant baptism, If infants are born
in original sin they require regeneration ; and if baptism
be the instrument of regeneration, they ought to be
baptized. But if baptism is not the instrument of
regeneration, it is mere superstition to administer it to
infants ; unless there be, which there is not, a plain com-
mand in Scripture to baptize them. Pierre de Bruys,
like a heretic, rejected the doctrine of baptismal rege-
neration ; like an honest man he shrunk not from the
consequence of his heresy, and denounced infant bap-
tism. Nor were his errors confined to this question.
Asserting that God was not more present in one place
than another, he drew the conclusion that churches in
general were unnecessary, and that all churches must
therefore be pulled down ; maintaining that God " taketh
pleasure in the pious emotions of the heart alone, he drew
the conclusion that He is neither to be invoked by loud
316 BERNARD.
sounding voices, or conciliated by musical melodies, and
that therefore " God is only mocked by church chanting."
In his contempt for external religion he totally, but con-
sistently, rejected the sacrament of the blessed Eucharist ;
and, denying the doctrine of a purgatory, he denied also
the existence of a middle state. The result of his preach-
ing was that his followers pulled down not only altars but
churches also ; and assembling on Good Friday brought
together all the crosses they could find, and making a
bonfire, cooked flesh, and invited all to eat. They scourged
all the priests upon whom they could lay hands, and com-
pelled the monks, in spite of their yows, to marry. Con-
sidering how identified in this age were the laws of each
country with the canons of the Church, and that this move-
ment was seditious as well as schismatical, it is astonish-
ing to find that Pierre de Bruys continued to preach these
doctrines with impunity for twenty years. He was at
length seized by an infuriated mob and conducted to the
scaffold, in the town of St Giles, in Languedoc. But his
principles had taken root, and his party called Petrobru-
sians continued their violence under a leader more fana-
tical than himself, Henri by name. This man, who was
both a demagogue and a fanatic, was mildly dealt with :
nothing could have been more tolerant or judicious than
the treatment he received from Hildebert, bishop of Mens,
nothing more ungrateful and wicked than the conduct of
Henri. Against the pious bishop he excited the populace,
but Hildebert took no other measure against him than
that of requiring him to leave his diocese. In 1134 the
bishop of Aries brought him before a council at Pisa,
where Henri retracted his errors, and was committed to
the mild custody of St Bernard, at Clairvaux, from which
he made his escape and resumed his schismatical pro-
ceedings about Toulouse and Albi. His influence here,
and the mischief he did, is described by St Bernard, and
the whole district must have been in a state of civil
as well as ecclesiastical disturbance. At length pope
Eugenius perceived the necessity of stronger measures,
BERNARD. 317
and despatched a cardinal, accompanied by other bishops,
to suppress the sect. The cardinal desiring to do so by
moral influence rather than by force of arms, persuaded
St Bernard to accompany him, knowing his power over
the minds of men. He had concluded rightly. When
the cardinal entered Albi he was met by every species of
tumultuous insult, but when two days afterwards St
Bernard made his appearance, his personal dignity, the
meanness of his apparel, and his haggard countenance,
made a very different impression : none presumed to
treat him with derision, and he was received with univer-
sal reverence and rejoicing.
At Toulouse such was the effect of the simple eloquence
of Bernard that, when at the conclusion of a discourse
which had been listened to with sobs and tears, he invited
the people to consider their ways and return to the unity
of the Church ; and in order to distinguish the penitents,
desired that "those who received the word of salvation
should hold up their right hands, in token of their adhe-
rence to the catholic Church," the whole congregation did
so with eager alacrity.
Henri was captured shortly after and brought before the
pope at the council of Rheims, but at the intercession of
the archbishop of Rheims, his sentence was mitigated to
imprisonment in a convent, where he soon after died.
The concludiDg years of St Bernard's life were devoted
to the completion of his most important work, "The Book
of Consideration," intended to remind his much loved
pupil, Eugenius, of the duties devolving upon him in his
high station. But Eugenius died before the work was
completed. And St Bernard, after again becoming a bene-
factor to a large portion of his fellow-men, by being the
mediator between the people of Mentz and some neigh-
bouring princes, whom he reconciled with his usual skill,
returned to Clairvaux, to prepare for his own departure.
A short time before his death, when his pains had ceased
to be alleviated by sleep, he dictated these words to a
2d 2
318 BERNARD.
friend: "Pray to the Saviour, who willeth not the death
of a sinner, that He delay not my departure, and yet that
He will be pleased to guard it. Support him who hath no
merits of his own by your prayers, that the adversary of
our salvation may not find any place open to his attacks."
Looking round upon his weeping brethren who no longer
attempted to restrain the demonstration of their grief, the
compassionate and tender hearted Bernard exclaimed :
" I am in a strait betwixt two pains, a desire to depart
and be with Christ which is far better ; nevertheless, the
love of my children urgeth me to remain here below."
These were the last words of Bernard of Clairvaux. His
life had been one of the strictest mortification, and it was
brought to a close in the year 1153, at the age of sixty-
three.
The character of this illustrious man will have been
seen from the facts narrated above. To powerful genius,
and perfect confidence in himself, by which he was led to
regard himself as an exception to ordinary rules, he united
a singleness of purpose and disinterestedness which made
him all powerful. He armed the warriors of the crusade,
but when they offered to make him their leader, he declined
the honour, for he felt that under such a leader a host of
warriors was not likely to prevail. He had at his option
the highest honours in the Church, which were sometimes
pressed upon him, but he declined them all, from the
feeling that as a poor monk he could better promote the
cause of true religion. He united to firmness of principle,
and severity against vice, an enthusiastic appreciation of
virtue, and the tenderness of a little child towards his
friends. He acted upon principle, but his feelings were
impulsive.
In one of his letters he thus unconsciously draws his
own portrait. " That is a high degree of virtue, and as
rare as it is high, that does great things without perceiving
its own greatness ; that is alone unconscious of the lustre
of that holiness which dazzles all other eyes ; and that,
BERNARD. 319
while admired by the whole world, looks upon itself as
vile, and only deserving of contempt. This is the greatest
of all virtues," — and it was his : for he who was highest
in the judgment of the Christian world (so that " all affairs
seemed to depend on his precepts and example, who was
consulted as an oracle by high and low, and acknowledged
as an arbiter both of truces and of peace ; to whose prayers
all orders of men desired to be recommended, since he
was so generally admired and beloved, that he had the
good wishes of the whole world, having gained more
favour in his humility than Solomon in all his glory ;")
ever remained the lowest in his own, " uniting the force
of a master with the docility of a child."
The editions of his works are numerous. The best
edition is that of Mabillon, printed at Paris in 1690, in
two volumes, folio. In Dupin may be found a particular
account of his letters, 440 in number, and of his other
works. His meditations have been translated by Dean
Stanhope. His sermons have been the delight of the
faithful in all ages. " They are," says Sixtus of Sienna,
" at once so sweet and so ardent that it is as though his
mouth were a fountain of honey, and his heart a whole
furnace of love." The doctrines of St Bernard differ on
some material points from that of the modern church of
Rome : he did not hold those refinements and perversions
of the doctrine of justification which the school divinity
afterwards introduced, and the reformers denounced : he
rejected the notion of supererogatory works : he did not
hold the modern purgatorial doctrines of the church of
Rome ; neither did he admit the immaculate conception
of the Blessed Virgin. He maintained also the orthodox
doctrine of the Real Presence, as distinguished from the
Romish doctrine of transubstantiation. In his discourse
on the Lord's Supper, he joins together the outward form
of the Sacrament, and the spiritual efficacy of it, as the
shell and the kernel, the sacred sign, and the thing sig-
nified; the one he takes out of the words of the InstitutioD,
and the other, out of Christ's sermon in the sixth of
3-20 BERNARD.
St John. And in the same place explaining, that Sacra-
ments are not things absolute in themselves without any
relation, but mysteries, wherein by the gift of a visible
sign, an invisible and divine grace with the Body and
Blood of Christ is given, he saith, " that the visible sign
is as a ring, which is given not for itself or absolutely, but
to invest and give possession of an estate made over to
one." Now, as no man can fancy that the ring is
substantially changed into the inheritance, whether lands
or houses, none also can say with truth, or without
absurdity, that the bread and wine are substantially
changed into the Body and Blood of Christ. But in his
sermon on the Purification, he speaks yet more plainly :
" The body of Christ in the Sacrament is the food of the
soul, not of the belly, therefore we eat Him not corpo-
rally: but in the manner that Christ is meat, in the
same manner we understand that He is eaten." Also in
his sermon on St Martin, "To this day," saith he, "the
same flesh is given to us, but spiritually, therefore not
corporally." For the truth of things spiritually present
is certain also.
Bishop Cosin remarks that Bellarmine confesseth with
St Bernard, that " Christ in the Sacrament is not given
to us carnally, but spiritually ; and would to God he had
rested here, and not outgone the holy Scriptures, and the
doctrine of the fathers. For endeavouring, with pope
Innocent III. and the council of Trent, to determine the
manner of the presence and manducation of Christ's
Body, with more nicety than was fitting, he thereby fool-
ishly overthrew all that he had wisely said before, denied
what he had affirmed, and opposed his own opinion. His
fear was lest his adversaries should apply that word spiri-
tually, not so much to express the manner of presence,
as to exclude the very substance of the Body and Blood of
Christ; "therefore," saith he, "upon that account it is
not safe to use too much that of St Bernard, ' the Body of
Christ is not corporally in the Sacrament,' without adding
presently the above-mentioned explanation." How much
BERNARD. 321
do we comply with human pride, and curiosity, which
would seem to understand all things ! Where is the
danger ? And what does he fear, as long as all they that
believe the Gospel, own the true nature, and the real and
substantial presence of the Body of Christ in the Sacra-
ment, using that explication of St Bernard, concerning
the manner, which he himself, for the too great evidence
of truth, durst not but admit ? and why doth he own that
the manner is spiritual, not carnal, and then require a
carnal presence, as to the manner itself? As for us, we
all openly profess with St Bernard, that the presence of
the Body of Christ in the Sacrament, is spiritual, and
therefore true and real ; and with the same Bernard, and
all the ancients, we deny that the Body of Christ is
carnally either present or given. The thing we willingly
admit, but humbly and religiously forbear to enquire into
the manner.
" We believe a presence and union of Christ with our
soul and body, which we know not how to call better than
sacramental, that is, effected by eating ; that while we eat
and drink the consecrated bread and wine, we eat and
drink therewithal the Body and Blood of Christ, not in a
corporal manner, but some other way, incomprehensible,
known only to God, which we call spiritual ; for if with
St Bernard and the fathers a man goes no further, we
do not find fault with a general explication of the manner,
but with the presumption and self-conceitedness of those
who boldly and curiously inquire what is a spiritual pre-
sence, as presuming that they can understand the manner
of acting of God's Holy Spirit. We contrariwise confess
with the fathers, that this manner of presence is unac-
countable, and past finding out, not to be searched and
pried into by reason, but believed by faith. And if it
seems impossible that the flesh of Christ should descend,
and come to be our food, through so great a distance ; we
must remember how much the power of the Holy Spirit
exceeds our sense and our apprehensions, and how absurd
it would be to undertake to measure His immensity by
322 BERNARD.
our weakness and narrow capacity ; and so make our faith
to conceive and believe what our reason cannot compre-
hend.
" Yet our faith doth not cause or make that presence,
but apprehends it as most truly and really effected by the
word of Christ : and the faith whereby we are said to eat
the flesh of Christ, is not that only whereby we believe
that He died for our sins, (for this faith is required and
supposed to precede the Sacramental Manducation,) but
more properly, that whereby we believe those words of
Christ, This is My Body; which was St Austin's meaning
when he said, " Why dost thou prepare thy stomach and
thy teeth ? Believe and thou hast eaten." For in this
mystical eating by the wonderful power of the Holy Ghost,
we do invisibly receive the substance of Christ's Body
and Blood, as much as if we should eat and drink both
visibly.
" The result of all this is, that the Body and Blood of
Christ are sacramentally united to the bread and wine, so
that Christ is truly given to the faithful ; and yet is not
to be here considered with sense or worldly reason, but by
faith, resting on the words of the Gospel. Now it is said,
that the Body and Blood of Christ are joined to the bread
and wine, because, that in the celebration of the Holy
Eucharist, the flesh is given together with the bread, and
the blood together with the wine. All that remains is,
that we should with faith and humility admire this high
and sacred mystery, which our tongue cannot sufficiently
explain, nor our heart conceive."
The materials for this life have been chiefly drawn
from Neander's Life and Times of St Bernard. The ra-
tionalism and liberalism of Neander have been corrected
in the few but very judicious notes of the accomplished
translator, Matilda Wrench. The most ancient biography
of St Bernard is in five books, and is to be found in the
second volume of Mabillon. Use has also been made
of Maitland's Dark Ages. Cosin on Transubstantiation.
Mosheim,
BERNARD. 323
Bernard, of Menthon, was born at Annecy, in Savoy,
in 923. As archdeacon of Piedmont he was employed
successfully in the conversion of the pagan inhabitants of
the neighbouring mountains, and replaced their temple of
Jupiter on Mont-joux by a conventual establishment, of
which the inmates are employed in assisting the traveller
when in danger, and in rendering hospitality to pilgrims
crossing the Alps on their way to Rome. He placed
another such establishment near the Colonnade of Jupi-
ter, so called from a series of upright stones placed on
the snow to point out a safe track. These two religious
establishments still remain among the most inhospitable
passages of the Alps, and are known as the Great and
Little St Bernard. The monastery on Great St Bernard
is probably the highest habitation in Europe; and in
both the monasteries the self-devoted monks train their
dogs to trace out the weary and perishing traveller, to
whom they extend all the hospitable attention his case
may require. Bernard, having effected this great work,
and having established a claim upon the gratitude of pos-
terity, resumed his missionary labours until his death,
which occurred at No vara, in the Milanese, on the 28th of
May, 1008. — Moreri. Biog. Univ.
Bernard, Andrew, was bom at Toulouse, and became
an Augustine monk. He is chiefly distinguished for
having been poet laureat to Henry VII and Heniy VIII,
kings of England, with a salary of ten marks, until he
could obtain some equivalent appointment. He is also
supposed to have been the royal historiographer and pre-
ceptor in grammar to prince Arthur. He wrote several
poems interesting chiefly to the antiquarian, which are to
be found in manuscript in some of the public libraries. —
Wartons Hist, of Poetry.
Bernard, Claude, called Father Bernard, or the poor
priest, was born at Dijon, in 1588. After a youth of dis-
sipation he grew disgusted with the world, and devoted
324 BERNARD.
himself wholly to relieving and comforting the poor. He
assisted them by his charities and exhortations to the end
of his days, with incredible fervour, stooping and humbling
himself to do the meanest offices for them. Father Ber-
nard having persisted in refusing all the benefices offered
him by the court, cardinal Richelieu told him one day,
that he absolutely insisted on his asking him for some-
thing, and left him alone to consider of it. When the
cardinal returned half an hour after, Bernard said,
" Monseigneur, after much study, I have at last found
out a favour to ask of you : when I attend any sufferers
to the gibbet to assist them in their last moments, we are
carried in a cart with so bad a bottom, that we are every
moment in danger of falling to the ground. Be pleased,
therefore, Monseigneur, to order that some better boards
may be put to the cart." Cardinal Richelieu laughed
heartily at this request, and gave orders directly that the
cart should be thoroughly repaired. Father Bernard was
ever ready to assist the unhappy by his good offices, for
which purpose he one day presented a petition to a noble-
man in place, who being of a very hasty temper, flew into
a violent passion, and said a thousand injurious things of
the person for whom the priest interested himself, but
Bernard still persisted in his request; at which the
nobleman was at last so irritated, that he gave him a box
on the ear. Bernard immediately fell at his feet, and,
presenting the other ear, said, " Give me a good blow on
this also, my lord, and grant my petition." The nobleman
was so affected by this apparent humility as to grant
Bernard's request. He died March 23, 1641. The
French clergy had such a veneration for him as often to
solicit that he might be enrolled in the calendar of saints.
In 1638 he founded the school of the Thirty-three, so
called from the number of years our Saviour passed on
earth, and a very excellent seminary. Immediately after
his death appeared " Le Testament du reverend pere
Bernard, et ses pensees pieuses," Paris, 1641, 8vo, and
♦' Le Recit des choses arrivees a la mort du rev. pere
BERNARD. 325
Bernard," same year. The abbe Papillon also quotes a
work entitled, " Entretiens pendant sa demiere maladie."
His life was written by several authors, by Legauffre,
Giry, de la Serre, Gerson, and Lampereur the Jesuit.
This last, which was published at Paris, 1708, 12mo, is
too full of visions, revelations, and miracles, to afford any
just idea of Bernard. — Lavocat. Biog. Univ.
Bernard, Edward, was born in 1638, at Paulerspury,
in Northamptonshire. From Merchant-Taylor's school, he
went to St John's college, Oxford, of which society he
became fellow, and proceeded B.D. in 1668. The same
year he went to Leyden to consult the oriental manu-
scripts in that university, particularly one of Apollonius
Pergaeus on conic sections, which he transcribed with a
view to publication, though the design was prevented. It
was, however, printed by Dr Halley. In 1669 he was
appointed deputy to sir Christopher Wren in the Savilian
professorship of astronomy, and in 1673 he succeeded
that great man on his resignation of the chair. About
this time a plan was formed for publishing all the ancient
mathematicians, and Id Bernard being selected for the
work, printed a part of Euclid as a specimen, but this
design fell to the ground. He was equally unfortunate in
his undertaking of a new edition of Josephus, but his
collections for this purpose were made a proper use of by
Havercamp. In 1676 he went to France as tutor to the
dukes of Grafton and Northumberland, and in 1683 he
visited Leyden again, to be present at the sale of Nicholas
Heinsius's library. The year following he took his doc-
tor's degree, and in 1691, on being presented to the
rectory of Brightwell, in Berkshire, resigned his professor-
ship. In 169*2 he was employed in drawing up a cata-
logue of the MSS in Great Britain and Ireland, which
was printed at Oxford in 1697, folio. Towards the close
of his life he was much afflicted with the stone, notwith-
standing which, such was his thirst for knowledge, that
VOL. H. 2 E
326 BERNARD.
he took a third voyage to Holland to attend the sale of
Golius's library. Soon after his retnrn he fell into a con-
sumption, and died in 1696. His remains were interred
in the chapel of St John's college, where his widow, to
whom he had been married four years, erected a monu-
ment to his memory. Besides some papers in the Philo-
sophical Transactions, he published — 1. A Treatise of the
ancient Weights and Measures, printed first in English,
and afterwards in Latin, at Oxford. 2. Private Devo-
tions, with an Explication of the Commandments, 12mo.
3. Orbis eruditi Literatura a charactere Samaritico deducta ;
a folio sheet, in copper plate. 4. Etymologia Britannica,
4to. 5. An edition of Guise's " Misuse pars prima," 4to,
6. Chronologiae Samaritanas Synopsis. 7. Annotationes
in Epistolam S. Barnabse, 8vo. 8. Short Notes upon
Cotelerius's edition of the Fathers. 9. Veterum Testi-
monia de Versione, lxxii. Interpretum, 8vo. His library
was sold by auction after his death, except a portion pur-
chased for the Bodleian collection. — Biog. Brit.
Bernard, James, was bom at Nions, in Dauphine in
1658, and was educated at Geneva. At the age of twenty-
one he was chosen minister of Venterol, in Dauphine, from
whence he removed to Vinsobres in the same province ;
but having preached in places interdicted by the king, he
retired to Geneva, next to Lausanne, and afterwards to
Holland, where he was appointed one of the ministers of
Ganda. He obtained leave, however, to fix his residence
at the Hague, where he taught mathematics and philo-
sophy, and commenced a political journal on the state of
Europe. In 1692 he began his " Lettres Historiques,"
upon the same plan ; and he also continued the Biblio-
theque Universelle of his friend and relation, Le Clerc. In
1669 he published Actes et Negociations de la Paix de
Rvsw'ic," 4 vols. 12mo. The next year appeared a general
collection of Treaties of Peace, in 4 vols, folio, but he did
not put his name to either of these works. He avowed,
BERNARD. 327
However, his continuation of Bayle's " Xouvelles de la
Republique des Lettres," which he began in 1698, and
carried on to the year 1710. The reputation which he
had acquired induced the Walloon church of Leyden to
elect him for their minister, but the appointment was lost
by the interference of king William, who disliked his
republican politics. On the death of that monarch he
succeeded in obtaining the appointment, and was also
chosen professor of philosophy and mathematics in that
university. In 1716 he published a supplement to
Moreri's dictionary. He died in 1718. Besides the
above works he published — 1. Le Theatre des etats du
due de Savoie, traduit du Latin de Bleau, 2 vols, folio.
2. Traite de la Repentance tardive, 12ino. 3. De
l'excellence de la religion Chretienne, 2 vols. 8vo. A
translation of this work into English was published in
1793, 8vo, with the life of the author, and notes. — Moreri
Beenakd, Nicholas. The place and time of his birth is
not stated, but he was educated at Cambridge, where he
took his M.A. degree. He was matriculated at Oxford, in
1628, and being chaplain to archbishop Usher, obtained
a doctor's degree at Trinity college, Dublin. Through the
archbishop's interest he was made dean of Ardagh. In
1642 he returned to England, and was presented to the
rectory of Whitchurch, in Shropshire. Having complied
with the ruling powers, and become an apostate from his
religion, he was made chaplain to Cromwell, and preacher to
the society of Gray's Inn. On the restoration of Charles II,
his easy religion enabled him to conform, and to retain
his rich living. Having no inclination to run the risk of
martyrdom, he did not return to his deanery in Ireland :
Whitchurch was indeed the more lucrative appointment.
He died in 1661. His works are — 1. The penitent Death
of a woeful Sinner, or the penitent Death of John Atherton,
bishop of Waterford, with a sermon on the same, 8vo.
2. Proceedings of the Siege of Drogheda, 4to. 3. A Dia-
logue between Paul and Agrippa, 4to. 4. A Farewell
328 BERNARD.
Sermon preached at Drogheda, 8vo. 5. The Life ancl
Death of archbishop Usher, 8vo. 6. The judgment of the
late archbishop of Armagh, on the extent of Christ's Death ;
secondly, of the Sabbath, &c. 8vo. 7. A Defence of this
last work against Dr Heylin. 8. Devotions of the ancient
Church, 8vo. 9. Clavi Trabales, or nails fastened by some
great masters of assemblies, on the King's Supremacy, &c.
4to. — Biog. Brit.
Bernard, John, was born at Caistor, in Lincolnshire.
He was educated at Queen's college, Cambridge, but
removed soon afterwards to Oxford, where, by the parlia-
mentary visitors, he was made fellow of Lincoln college
in 1648. He married Letice, daughter of the celebrated
Peter Heylin, but his connection with that loyal and reli-
gious family did not lead him to change his principles
while the rebels were in power. His " Censura Cleri, or
Against scandalous Ministers, not fit to be restored to the
churches livings in point of Prudence, Piety, and Fame,"
was published in 1659, and was aimed as a blow against
those unfortunate incumbents who, in 1654, had been
ejected from their livings by Cromwell's triers. Bernard
had valuable preferment in Lincolnshire, which he retained
at the restoration by conforming. He obtained also a
prebend in Lincoln cathedral. He died in 1683. He
published two works in vindication of Peter Heylin, his
father-in-law. The first of these is entitled, Theologo-
Historicus ; or the true Life of the most Rev Divine, and
excellent Historian, Peter Heylin, D.D., Sub-Dean of
Westminster, Lond. 1683, 8vo. It is professedly an
answer to a life, treated as defective and calumnious, of
that eminent man, by Vernon. Bernard's other vindi-
cation is printed with this, and is entitled, An Answer to
Mr Baxter's false accusations of Dr Heylin. — Wood's
AthencB.
Bernardin of Siena, so called because his family,
named Albizeschi, came from that city, was bom at Massa
BERNARDIX.
Carrara, where his father was then chief magistrate,
September 8, 1380. Having lost his mother when he was
three, and his father when he was seven years old, he was
educated by one of his aunts till he was thirteen years of
age, and then his relatives sent for him to Siena, where he
studied grammar under Onuphrius, and philosophy under
John of Spoletta. Some time after he entered into the
confraternity of the disciplinators of the hospital of the
Scala in Siena ; there he assisted with much fervour and
zeal those who were infected with the plague, and practised
great austerities. In the year 1405, he made profession of
the rule of St Francis, in the monastery of the Observan-
tines of Columbarius, which was near to Siena. Being
ordained priest, he addicted himself to preaching, and
founded in Italy many new monasteries of the Observan-
tines, and reformed those that were ancient. He was after-
wards sent to Jerusalem, and made guardian of the Holy
Land ; and having returned from thence, he continued
to preach in Italy ; and to stir up the devotion of the
people towards our Lord, he had a custom of shewing the
name of Jesus, painted iu a circle surrounded with the
sun, and made a great many such pictures, which sold
very well. His enemies accused him of affirming in his
sermons many false things, and delated him to pope
Martin the fifth, who cited him to appear before himself,
and caused his works to be examined : but finding no-
thing in them worthy of condemnation, the pope having
heard his defence, absolved him, and sent him back,
with permission to continue his preaching. The cities of
Siena, Ferrara, and Urbin, desired pope Eugenius the IVth
to make him their bishop, but he refused the bishopric,
not withstau ding the importunity of this pope in urging
it upon him : he would only accept of the title of vicar-
general of the friars of the Observantines for all Italy: and
there he reformed or founded anew nearly three hundred
monasteries. He died, at last, in the citv of Aquila. in
■) e2
330 BERRIMAN.
Abruzzo, May the 20th, 1444. He was canonized by
Nicolas V, in 1450.
His works have been printed at Venice, in 1591, by
the care of Rodulphus, bishop of Sinigaglia ; and at Paris,
in 1636, by the care of Peter de la Haye, in two volumes
in folio. — Dupin.
Berriman, William, was born September 24th, 1688,
and was the son of Mr John Berriman, apothecary, in
Bishopsgate-street, and the grandson of the Rev Mr Berri-
man, rector of Bedington, in Surry. He had his primary
education at Banbury, in Oxfordshire, and at Merchant-
Taylor's school. At seventeen years of age he was entered
as a commoner at Oriel college, in Oxford, where he took
his several degrees, when of proper standing. He was
curate and lecturer of Allhallows, in Thames-street, and
lecturer of St Michael's, Queenhithe. He was appointed
domestic chaplain to Dr Robinson, bishop of London, in
1720, and was soon after collated by him to the living of
St Andrews, Undershaft.
In the year 1727 he was elected fellow of Eton college,
by the interest of Dr Godolphin, the provost, without any
solicitation. Here he chiefly resided in the summer, and
in his parsonage house in the winter, where he died
February 5th, 1749-50, in the sixty-second year of his
age ; leaving behind him a high character for learning,
practical good sense, integrity, and strict regard for his
professional obligations of every kind.
His writings are, a seasonable Review of Mr Whilon's
Account of primitive Doxologies, printed in the year 1719.
An historical account of the Trinitarian Controversy, in
eight sermons at lady Movers lecture, 1715. A defence
of some passages in the historical account, 1731. Brief
Remarks on Mr Chandler's Introduction to the History of
the Inquisition, 1733. A Review of the Remarks. Ser-
mons at Boyle's lectures, in 2 vols, 8vo, 1733.
Besides these he published many occasional sermons in
BERTRAM. 331
his life time, and after his death several others were
published by his brother John Berriman, M.A. from his
original MSS, under the title of Christian Doctrines and
Duties explained and recommended. — Gen. Biog. Diet.
Bertram, The Priest. This is the ordinary designa-
tion of an author who took a distinguished part in the
controversy concerning the Eucharist in the ninth cen-
tury, when the doctrine of transubstantiation was first in-
troduced into the Church. His proper name was Ratramn,
which seems to have been converted into Bertram by the
affix of BE, the first syllable of Beatus, frequently placed
before names of persons esteemed for their piety and
learning. Be-Ratram, by the carelessness of transcribers,
came in process of time to be written Bertram.
He was in all probability a native of France, and of the
province of Picardy, where he became a monk in the early
part of the ninth century. He was educated in the Bene-
dictine monastery of Corbey, in the diocese of Amiens.
In this cloister he became a proficient in the study of
divinity, and, like most divines of the age, was deeply read
in the Scriptures. He was here ordained priest, and
after the death of Baro he was, as is generally supposed,
promoted to the government of the monastery of Orbais,
in the diocese of Soissons, by Charles the Bald.
That he was in great esteem in his own age is evident
from the fact that he was consulted by Charles the Bald
upon points of such moment as the predestination con-
troversy, and the controversy relating to Christ's pre-
sence in the Holy Sacrament of the Altar. The first
of his writings extant is that of the Manner of Christ's
Birth, which was written before 844. His two Books
on Predestination were written, as the president Mauguin
conjectures, in 850. In 853 he wrote a book to justify
the use of an old hymn, which Hincmar of Rheims
had commanded to be altered, directing that instead
of Te, Trina Deitas, should be used the words, Te,
Summa Deitas, imagining the former expression to make
332 BERTRAM.
three Gods : Ratramn asserted the expression to be ortho-
dox by the authority of St Hilary and St Augustine.
This work is lost. He also wrote a book, de Anima,
at the instance of Odo, sometime abbot of Corbey and
bishop of Beauvais, against a monk of the same convent,
who taught that all men had but one and the same soul.
This book is extant in manuscript in the library of
Bennet college, Cambridge, in that of Salisbury cathedral,
and in that of St Eligius, at Noyon, in France, but not
printed.
About the year 868, pope Nicolas I, having desired
Hincmar and the French bishops to consider and answer
the objections of the Greeks against the Latin church
and Hincmar, having emplo}Ted Odo, bishop of Beauvais,
therein, it is probable he recommended Ratramn to the
bishops, as a man fit to undertake such a work, and
accordingly he wrote four books on that occasion, published
by Dacherius.
There is also among the MSS in the Leipsic library, an
epistle concerning the Cynocephali, whether they be truly
men and of Adam's seed, or brute creatures? What
moved him to discuss this question, or how he hath
determined it, is not known. The epistle is directed to
one Rimbert, a presbyter, the same, probably, who suc-
ceeded Anscharius in the see of Breme, and wrote his
life.
His great work, De Corpore et Sanguine Domini,
concerning the Body and Blood of our Lord, was
most probably written in the year 850. As this work
excited extraordinary attention about the time of the
reformation, the reader shall be supplied with extracts
from it. It is one of those works which proves, to the
infinite perplexity of the papists, that the doctrine of
tran substantiation was a novelty in the ninth century, and
that it was not introduced into the Church without the
opposition of the more orthodox divines.
The mode of the real presence in the Sacrament of the
Lord's Supper, is left undefined in Holy Scripture. It is
BERTEAM. 333
a subject od which there is a natural desire, however,
that something positive should be asserted. What are
we precisely to believe on this point ? is a question which
will occur to the mind. The Scriptures give no clear
answer, the primitive church gives no clear answer, the
church of England gives no clear answer. All that is
declared is, that " the Body and Blood of Christ are
verily and indeed taken and received by the faithful in
the Lord's Supper." The mode of the presence is not
stated. Before the ninth century attempts had been
made to define the mode of this mystery. But Charle-
magne having, in an epistle to Alcuin, expressed his belief
that the sacramental elements are figures of Christ's Body
and Blood, the question, though stated, was not agitated
among polemics while he swayed the sceptre. The church
of England, it is well known, believed in the spiritual
presence only, at the distance of more than two centuries
from the death of Charlemagne. In the earlier part of
the ninth century, however, inquisitive minds on the
continent were fixed upon this subject, in consequence of
a work offered to the world by Paschasius Radbert, abbot
of Corbey. In this he asserted that the Lord's Body,
received in the eucharistic sacrifice, is the same Body
that was born of the Virgin ; although even he did not
proceed to the length of asserting that the elements were
transubstantiated, but rather taught that they were united
with the Incarnate Deity. His doctrine was no sooner
published, than it met with violent opposition. Charles
the Bald, anxious to form a sound opinion upon the con-
troversy which Radbert had excited, applied, as we have
before stated, to Ratramn : and from his most valuable
treatise we learn, not only that the doctrine of transub-
stantiation was not then established, but also that then,
as now, in the church of England, there existed no doctrine
as to the mode of Christ's presence in the Holy Sacrament:
"while some of the faithful," observes Ratramn, "say
concerning the Body and Blood of Christ, which is daily
celebrated in the Church, that there is no veil nor figure,
334 BERTRAM.
but that the very thing itself is openly and really exhibited;
and others of them affirm, that these things, (viz. the Body
and Blood of Christ,) are present in a mystery or figure ;
that it is one thing that appears to our bodily eyes, and
another thing that our faith beholds ; it is plain, there
is no small difference in judgment among them : and
whereas the Apostle writes to the faithful, that they
should all think and speak the same thing, and that there
should be no schism among them ; there is no small
division and schism among those who believe and speak
differently concerning the mystery of the Body and Blood
of Christ.
In noticing the doctrine he first defines what a Figure
is, and what the Truth.
" A figure is a certain covert manner of expression,
which exhibits what it intends under certain veils. For
example ; we call the woed bread, as in the Lords Prayer,
we beg that God would give us our daily bread : or as
Christ in the gospel speaks, I am the living bread that
came down from heaven. Or when he calls Himself a
vine, and His disciples branches, I am the true vine, and
ye are the branches. In all these instances, one thing is
said and another thing is understood.
" The truth is the representation of the very thing itself,
not veiled with any shadow or figure, but expressed accord-
ing to the pure and naked (or to speak more plainly yet)
natural signification of the words. As when we say that
Christ was born of a Virgin, suffered, was crucified, dead
and buried : here is nothing shadowed out under the
coverture of figures, but the very truth of the thing is ex-
pressed, according to the natural signification of the words ;
nor is any thing here understood but what is said. But
in the fore- mentioned instances it is not so. For in sub-
stance, neither is Christ bread, or a vine, nor the apostles
branches. These are figures, but in the other the plain
and naked truth is related.
" Now let us return to the subject which hath occasion-
ed the saying of all this, viz. the Body and Blood of Christ.
BERTRAM. 335
If there be no figure in that mystery, it is not properly
called a mystery ; for that cannot be said to be a mystery,
which hath nothing secret, nothing remote from our bodily
senses, nothing covered under any veil. But as for that
bread, which by the ministry of the priest, is made Christ's
body, it sheweth one thing outwardly to our senses, and
inwardly proclaims quite another thing to the minds of
the faithful. That which outwardly appears is bread, as
it was before in form, colour, and taste : but inwardly there
is quite another thing presented to us, and that much
more precious and excellent, because it is heavenly and
divine : that is, Christ's Body is exhibited which is beheld,
received, and eaten, not by our carnal senses, but by the
sight of the believing soul.
" Likewise the wine, which by the priest's consecration,
is made the Sacrament of Christ's Blood, appears one
thing outwardly, and inwardly contains aD other : for what
doth outwardly appear but the substance of wine ? Taste
it, there is the relish of wine ; smell it, there is the scent
of wine ; behold it, there is the colour of wine. But if
you consider it inwardly, then it is not the liquor of wine,
but the liquor of Christ's Blood, which is tasted, seen, and
smelt. Since these things are undeniable, it is evident,
that the bread and wine are figuratively the Body and
Blood of Christ : as to outward appearance, there is neither
the likeness of flesh to be seen in that bread, nor the
liquor of blood in that wine, and yet after the mystical
consecration, they are no longer called bread and wine,
but the Body and Blood of Christ."
Having produced some additional arguments, he says
further, " Let us consider the font of Holy Baptism, which
is not undeservedly styled the fountain of life, because it
regenerates those who descend into it, to the newness of a
better life ; and makes those who were dead in sins, alive
unto righteousness. Is it the visible element of water
which hath this efficacy ? Verily, unless it had obtained
a sanctifying virtue, it could by no means wash away the
stain of our sins : and if it had not a quickening power, it
336 BERTRAM.
could not at all give life to the dead. The dead I mean
not as to their bodies, but to their souls. Yet if in that
fountain you consider nothing but what the bodily sense
beholdeth, you see only a fluid element of a corruptible
nature, and capable of washing the body only. But the
power of the Holy Ghost, came upon it by the priests
consecration, and it obtained thereby an efficacy to wash
not the bodies only, but also the souls of men ; and by a
spiritual virtue, to take away their spiritual filth.
" Behold, how in one and the same element, are seen
two things contrary to each other; a thing corruptible,
giving incorruption ; and a thing without life, giving
life. It is manifest then, that in the font, there is both
somewhat, which the bodily sense perceiveth, which is
therefore mutable and corruptible ; and somewhat which
the eye of faith only beholds, and therefore is neither
corruptible nor mortal. If you enqure what washes the
outside, it is the element; but if you consider what
purgeth the inside, it is a quickening power, a sanctifying
power, a power conferring immortality. So then in its
own nature, it is a corruptible liquor, but in the mystery,
it is a healing power.
" Thus also the Body and Blood of Christ, considered as
to the outside only, is a creature subject to change and
corruption. But if you ponder the efficacy of the mys-
tery, it is life conferring immortality, on such as partake
thereof. Therefore they are not the same things which
are seen, and which are believed. For the things seen,
feed a corruptible body, being corruptible themselves ;
but those which are believed, feed immortal souls, being
themselves immortal."
The doctrine is then enforced by other instances of
figurative language occuring in Scripture, such as no man
ever dreamt of expounding literally. In explanation of
John, vi. 53, he says, " We ought to consider how those
words of our Saviour are to be understood, wherein he
saith, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and
drink his blood, ye have not life in you. For he doth
BERTRAM. 33H
not say, that His flesh which hung on the cross, should
be cut in pieces, and eaten by His disciples ; or that His
blood, which He was to shed for the redemption of the
world, should be given His disciples to drink : for it had
been a crime for His disciples to have eaten His flesh, and
drunk His blood, in the sense that the unbelieving Jews
then understood Him.
" Wherefore, in the following words He saith to His dis-
ciples, who did not disbelieve that saying of Christ, though
they did not yet penetrate the true meaning of it. ' Doth
this offend you ? What if ye shall see the Son of Man
ascending up where He was before ?' As though He should
say, ' Think not that you must eat my flesh and drink my
blood corporally, divided into small pieces : for, when after
my resurrection, you shall see me ascend into the heavens
with my body entire, and all my blood, then you shall
understand that the faithful must eat my flesh, not in the
manner which these unbelievers imagine ; but that indeed
believers must receive it, bread and wine being mystically
turned into the substance of my body and blood.
" And after, It is the Spirit, saith He, that quickeneth,
the flesh profiteth nothing. He saith, the flesh profiteth
nothing, taken as those infidels understood Him, but other-
wise it giveth life, as it is taken mystically by the faithful.
And why so? He himself shews, when He saith, It is the
Spirit that quickeneth : therefore in this mystery of the
Body and Blood of Christ, there is a spiritual operation,
which giveth life ; without which operation the mysteries
profit nothing; because they may indeed feed the body,
but cannot feed the soul."
He then proceeds to shew that the fathers of the Church
before him understood the doctrine in the same sense:
summing up his argument thus, " What do we learn
hence, but that the Body and Blood of Christ are there-
fore called mysteries, because they contain a secret and
hidden dispensation? That is, it is one thing which tncy
outwardly make shew of, and another thing, which they
operate inwardly and invisibly.
2f 2
338 BERTRAM.
" And for this reason they are called Sacraments, be-
cause, under the covert of bodily things, a divine power
doth secretly dispense salvation (or grace) to them that
faithfully receive them.
" By all that hath been hitherto said, it appears, that
the Body and Blood of Christ, which are received by the
mouths of the faithful in the Church, are figures in respect
of their visible nature ; but in respect of the invisible
substance, that is, the power of the word of God, they are
truly Christ's Body and Blood. Wherefore as they are
visible creatures, they feed the body ; but as they have
the virtue of a more powerful substance, they do both feed
and sanctify the souls of the faithful."
He then proceeds to the second question, " Whether
that very Body which was born of Mary, which suffered,
was dead and buried, and which sits at the right hand of
the Father, be the same which is daily received in the
church by the mouths of the faithful in the sacramental
mysteries:" and here too he refers to the fathers and an-
cient liturgies, giving an answer on their authority, to
this question in the negative.
" Your wisdom, most illustrious prince, may observe,
how both by testimonies out of the Holy Scriptures, and
the fathers, it is most evidently demonstrated, that the
bread, which is called the Body of Christ, and the cup,
which is called the Blood of Christ, is a figure, because it
is a mystery ; and that there is a vast difference between
that which is His Body mystically, and that Body which
suffered, was buried, and rose again: for this was our
Saviour's proper Body : nor is there any figure or significa-
tion in it ; but it is the very thing itself. And the faithful
desire the vision of Him, because He is our Head ; and
when we shall see Him, our desire will be satisfied ; for
He and the Father are one ; not in respect of our Saviour's
Body, but forasmuch as the fulness of the Godhead dvvel-
leth in the Man Christ.
li But in that Body which is celebrated in a mystery,
there is a figure, not only of the proper Body of Christ,
BERTRAM. 339
but also of the people which believe in Christ : for it is a
figure representing both bodies ; to wit, that of Christ, in
which He died, and rose again, and that of the people
which are regenerated, and raised from the dead (by
baptism) into Christ.
" And let me add, that the bread and cup, which are
called, and are the Body and Blood of Christ, represent
the memory of the Lord's passion or death ; as Himself
teacheth us in the gospel, saying, ' This do in remem-
brance of Me.' Which St Paul the apostle expounding,
saith, ' As oft as you eat this bread, and drink this cup,
you shew forth the Lord's death till he come.'
" We are here taught both by our Saviour, and also by
St Paul the apostle, that the bread and cup which are
placed upon the altar, are set there for a figure, or in re-
membrance of the Lord's death ; that what was really done
long since, may be called to our present remembrance,
that having His passion in our mind, we may be made
partakers of that divine gift, whereby we are saved from
death : knowing well, that when we shall come to the
vision of Christ, we shall need no such instruments to
admonish us, what His infinite goodness was pleased to
suffer for our sakes ; for when we shall see Him face to
face, we shall, not by the outward admonition of temporal
things, but by the contemplation of the very thing itself,
understand how much we are obliged to give thanks to the
Author of our salvation.
" But in what I say, I would not have it thought, that
the Lord's Body and Blood is not received by the faithful
in the sacramental mysteries ; for faith receives not that
which the eye beholds, but what itself believes. It is
spiritual meat, and spiritual drink, spiritually feeding the
soul, and affording a life of eternal satisfaction ; as our
Saviour Himself, commending this mystery, speaks :
1 It is the Spirit that quickeneth, the flesh profiteth
nothing.'"
Xo apology is necessary for having entered into an
analysis of this treatise, which was very serviceable to our
340 BERULLE.
reformers, when they renounced the doctrine of transub-
stantiation. " This Bertram," says bishop Ridley, "first
pulled me by the ear, and that first brought me from the
common error of the Romish Church, and caused me to
search more diligently both the Scriptures and the writings
of the old ecclesiastical fathers on this matter."
The sentiments of Ratramn were in accordance with
those of almost all among his contemporaries whose names
are celebrated : Rabanus Mauras, the bishop of Mentz ;
Agobard, archbishop of Lyons ; Claudius, bishop of Turin;
the illustrious John Scot, usually designated Erigena;
Druthmar, and several other authors of high repute in their
day, who lent their aid to stay the progress of that un-
scriptural fancy, by which the superstitious were labouring
to embarrass the Eucharistic question. For the further
history of this controversy the reader is referred to the
articles on Berengarius and Lanfranc.
Ratramn died about the year 870. — Ratramni Liber
de Corpore et Sanguine Domini., with the treatises prefixed.
Ridley's Life of Ridley. Soames' History of Reformation.
Bertramn, Cornelius Bonaventure, professor of He-
brew at Geneva and Lausanne, was born at Thouars, in
Poitou, in 1531, and died at Lausanne in 1594. He
published — 1. A Dissertation on the Republic of the
Hebrews. 2. A Revision of the French Bible of Geneva.
3. Pagnini's Thesaurus Linguae Sanctae. 4. A Parallel
of the Hebrew and Syriac Languages. 5. Lucubrationes
Frankendalenses. — Moreri.
Berulle, Peter de, wras born at the chateau de
Serilli, near Troyes, in Champagne, on the 4th of February,
1575, and was early distinguished for his piety and learn-
ing. At the conference of Fontainbleau, he argued with
the protestants of France, and obtained the approbation
of friends and foes, equally for his learning, his winning
address, and his gentle deportment. He was sent into
Spain in 1603; for the purpose of inducing some of the
BERULLE. 341
Carmelites to settle in Paris ; and with considerable diffi-
culty, after encountering much opposition, he succeeded
in establishing that order in France. But he is chiefly
distinguished for having founded, in 1613, the congrega-
tion of the oratory in France ; an order which had been
recently established in Italy by Philip Neri. He was
solicited to undertake this work by Francis de Sales, and
had to overcome the opposition of the Jesuits. He had
made a vow in early life not to accept any ecclesiastical
dignity, and he resisted the offer of some wealthy bishop-
rics made to him by Henry IV. and Louis XIII. Upon
Louis's threatening to apply to the pope to compel him to
break his vow, and to accept the bishopric of Leon, Berulle
replied, that "if the king continued to press him he should
be obliged to quit the kingdom." But one of the abomi-
nations of popery is the light regard which is paid to vows
and oaths. The conduct of Louis, just alluded to, is a
proof of this ; and he was correct in supposing that the
pope would at his solicitation release Berulle from his
vow, for this Urban VIII, in 1627, did, when he created
him a cardinal, and caused him to accept two abbacies to
support his dignity. The appointment justly gave offence
to the French bishops ; and Berulle ought to have died
rather than have submitted to the indignity of the car-
dinalate. Berulle was employed in soliciting at Rome the
dispensation under which Henrietta Maria was married to
Charles I. He undertook the office with a bold, indepen-
dent spirit, and threw the blame of the schism upon the
want of a proper conciliating spirit on the part of Rome
towards Henry VIII. The court of Rome took the hint ;
although the difficulty could not have been great to obtain
a dispensation, on political grounds then existing, from a
court and church so venal and so open to worldly influ-
ences as that of Rome. Much is said against mixed mar-
riages by Romish divines, but the doctrine is only enforced
against the poor. The royal, the noble, and the wealthy,
can do as they will, after submitting to the farce of obtain-
2f2
342 BERYLLUS.
ing a dispensation. Berulle accompanied Henrietta Maria
to England, and gained universal respect by his discretion
and the amiability of his manners. He died suddenly,
October 2nd, 1629, aged fifty-five, while celebrating the
Holy Eucharist.
His works, chiefly controversial, were printed in two
vols, folio, in 1644, and they were reprinted in one volume
in 1647. — Cerisi. Doni d'Attici. Carraccioli.
Bervllus, bishop of Bostra, in Arabia, about the year
244, was regarded with respect and esteem by his contem-
poraries until he asserted a doctrine contrary to the Catholic
faith, with reference to our Blessed Lord and Saviour.
According to Eusebius he erred, " in daring to affirm that
our Lord and Savoiur, before His coming among men, had
no proper different subsistence ; neither any Godhead of
His own, but only the Deity of the Father residing in Him."
In explanation, Valesius, in his note upon the passage,
shews that Beryllus erred in that he believed Christ had
no proper personality before His Incarnation ; but he was
orthodox in that he held that Christ had not a Godhead
proper to Himself, only the Godhead of the Father residing
in Him, for the Godhead of the Father, and of the Son, and
of the Holy Ghost, is all one, the glory equal, the majesty
co-eternal : otherwise there would be three Gods, not one
God : therefore if this were Beryllus's opinion he may be
excused ; but he erred on this head in that he asserted
that the Son by Himself is not properly God, but has
only a derivative divinity from the Father. For if he
asserted that the Son subsisted not personally before
His Incarnation, it follows that he deprived Him of His
divinity. "
Many disputes and conferences having been held by
the bishops against Beryllus without effect, Origen was
sent for. Origen at first entered into a friendly discourse
with Beryllus to ascertain what his opinions really were,
and when he discovered them he reprehended him for his
BESSARION. 343
want of orthodoxy. Origen having at length convinced
the bishop of his error, "took him as it were by the hand,"
as Eusebius says, "and set him in the way of true doc-
trine, and reinstated him in his former sound opinion."
In the time of Eusebius the record of this conference was
extant. Beryllus, besides some epistles to Origen, thank-
ing him for his conversion, left behind him what Eusebius
styles "several monuments of an elegant genius," by which
Valesius thinks that he means hymns and poems. None
of his works have come down to us. — Eusebius, with VaU-
sius's Notes.
Bessariox, Johx, was born at Trebisond, either in 1389
or in 1395. He was educated under the philosopher
Gemislius Pletho, who had the honour of introducing the
study of Plato among the scholars of the West. He en-
tered a monastery in the Peloponesus, and became a monk
of the order of St Basil. In this monastery he remained
for twenty-one years, employed in intellectual pursuits,
and became one of the most distinguished scholars of
the age. In the meantime his country was threatened
with destruction, and the Byzantine throne was evidently
about to fall a prey to Turkish ambition. Under these
circumstances John Palaeologus the emperor perceived that
his chief reliance under God, rested on the assistance he
might obtain from the European provinces, whose sym-
pathy was hopeless without concessions to the Latin
Church. He accordingly expressed a disposition for
such ; and it so happened that pope Eugenius IV was in
such circumstances as to render it equally desirable for
him to enter into a negociation with the Greeks.
A council had been assembled at Basil, in Switzerland,
in the year 1431. It was convened by Martin V, and his
successor Eugenius IV. The object which the fathers
here assembled set before them, and pursued with eager-
ness, was the reform of the many abuses in the Church,
which had been the fertile subject of complaint for many
years. The avarice and sensual vices of successive popes
344 BESSARION.
had b een a scandal to the Church for many years, and the
council of Basil conferred anew the decrees of Constance,
concerning the superiority of a general council over the
bishop of Rome, its power to punish him if refractory, and
its freedom from being dissolved by him. The resolution
of the synod was supported by the emperor of Germany,
the king of France, and the duke of Milan. But the
regulations referred to, and others, which restored the
Church to her liberty, and restrained the tyrannical and
most injurious usurpation of the Roman pontiff, not
unnaturally excited the wrath of Eugenius, and a warm
and violent contest ensued between the pope and the
council. The latter summoned Eugenius to appear before
them at Basil on the 26th day of June, 1437, in order to
give an account of his conduct ; but the pontiff, instead of
complying with the summons, issued a decree by which he
pretended to dissolve the council, and to assemble another
at Ferrara. Although this decree was treated with the
utmost contempt by the council, who pronounced sentence
of contumacy against the rebellious pontiff for having
refused to obey their order; yet in 1438 Eugenius opened
in person the council which he had summoned to meet at
Ferrara.
Thus were there two parties in the West anxious to
enter into a treaty with the Byzantine emperor and the
Greek church, in order to strengthen their hands. The
council of Basil had invited the emperor and the patriarch
of Constantinople to unite with them ; they agreed to pay
his travelling expenses ; to remit an immediate sum of
eight thousand ducats for the accommodation of the Greek
clergy ; and in his absence to grant a supply of ten thou-
sand ducats, with three hundred archers, and some galleys
for the protection of Constantinople. But Eugenius was
sensible of the importance of the emperor of the Greeks.
He solicited his friendship; and to transport the Byzantine
prince to Ferrara, he despatched nine galleys, with the
persuasive argument of fifteen thousand ducats and the
most splendid promises. In an evil hour John Palaeologus
BESSARION. 345
accepted the invitation of the pope: had he adhere 1 to the
council of Basil it is probable that the papal authority
would, if not overthrown, have been circumscribed within
just limits, and the Eastern and Western Churches might
have been once again united. But to Ferrara the Greek
emperor repaired with the aged patriarch Joseph, and a
various retinue of bishops and ministers, of monks and
philosophers : among whom was Bessarion, now dignified
with the title of archbishop of Nice.
When they arrived at Ferrara the etiquette necessary to
be observed by the visitors and the visited first engrossed
their attention The pride of the pope yielded to sound
policy, and, dispensing with the honours usually shewn
him on such occasions, he received Palaeologus and
his patriarch with a salutation of union and charity,
although the Greek ecclesiastics refused a compliance
with the ceremony of kissing the pope's foot. The chief
points to be got over were the doctrine of purgatory, the
papal supremacy, and the procession of the Holy Spirit
from the Son, all which the Greeks denied. In the midst
of the discussions a fever broke out at Ferrara, and the
council was removed to Florence, an arrangement to which
the Greek patriarch and bishops did not consent without
considerable hesitation. At Florence the discussions were
resumed. The Romanists were supported by the elo-
quence of cardinal Julian, while Bessarion and Mark of
Ephesus headed the Greeks. If Bessarion was surpassed
by Mark in powers of reasoning, his skill and eloquence
as a disputant made him more than a match for the most
powerful advocates on the papal side. But the champion
of the Eastern church was not inaccessible to flattery
and bribes, and he became an apostate and a papist He
was immediately employed by the pope to corrupt others ;
and by rewards, persuasions, threats, and promises, eigh-
teen of the Eastern bishops were induced to sign the decree
made in the tenth session, declaring that the Holy Ghost
proceedeth from the Father and the Son : that the Sacra-
ment is validly consecrated in unleavened as well as in
346 BESSARION
leavened bread : that there is a purgatory : and that the
Roman pontiff is primate and head of the whole Church.
The patriarch of Constantinople, (who died at the council,)
Mark of Ephesus, the patriarch of Heraclea, and Athana
sius, remained uncorrupted.
The Greek deputies returned to Constantinople, and
were received there with one burst of indignation.
The Greek church indignantly rejected all that had
been done, and in a council at Constantinople, held,
according to their own account, a year and a half after
the termination of that of Florence, all the Florentine
proceedings were declared null and void, and the synod
was condemned. The patriarch of Constantinople, Gregory,
who had succeeded Joseph, and was inclined to the Latins,
was deposed, and Athanasius chosen in his stead. The
patriarchs of Alexandria, Antioch, Jerusalem, and the
chiefs of the old patriarchates of Ephesus, Heraclea, and
Cassarea, were all present and concerned in these transac-
tions. The subscribing ecclesiastics instead of justifying,
deplored their weakness : "Alas! we have been seduced
by distress, by fraud, and by the hopes and fears of a
transitory life. The hand that has signed the union
should be cut off; and the tongue that has pronounced
the Latin creed deserves to be torn from the root," was the
answer to the reproachful question, what had become of the
Italian synod.
It may be here remarked, that although the synod of
Florence is considered as oecumenical by ultra-montane
papists, it was rejected not only by the Eastern church,
but also by many of the Western churches. Cardinal de
Lorraine declared in the synod of Trent, 1563, that the
university of Paris did not hold the synod of Florence as
oecumenical. Launoi says, that the Gallican church does
not number it among general councils.
We may well suppose that Bessarion was in no enviable
predicament when he returned to his native land : he
was branded as a bastard Greek, false to his country and
his church, and was generally abhored as an apostate.
BESSARION. 347
He fled from disgrace in his own country to enjoy the
rewards of his apostacy in Italy. Already, in 1439, the
grateful Eugenius had made him a cardinal, and, under
Nicholas V, he became archbishop of Siponto and cardinal
bishop. Pius II, in 1463, mocked him with the title of
patriarch of Constantinople; an insult to the Greek
church, which only exasperated them yet more against
Bessarion. On the death of Nicholas V, and again on
the death of Paul II, Bessarion had a fair chance of being
himself elected to the papal throne.
His learning, and his patronage of learned men, added
to the simplicity of his habits, in spite of wealth and high
station, rendered him extremely popular. His house was
the resort of men of genius, and when he appeared abroad
his train was composed of the most distinguished scholars
of the age. He was employed in some embassies of a
difficult and delicate kind, but it would seem that his
skill as a politician was not so great, as his genius in
literature. On his return from an embassy to France, in
which he not only failed, but was subjected, it is said, to
the grossest personal indignities from the French king,
he was taken ill at Piavenna, where he died on the 19th of
November, 1472. His funeral, which took place at Piome,
was attended by the pope, an honour not hitherto paid to
the memory of any cardinal. His praises were celebrated
in Latin and Greek verse, and his memory has been
respected in the annals of literature as one of the restorers
of classical learning. He had procured manuscripts,
regardless of expense, from all parts of Greece, and having
thus formed a noble library, he bequeathed it to the senate
of Venice. His most celebrated works were his Latin trans-
lations of Xenophon's Memorabilia, and Aristotle's Meta-
physics, together with a treatise, Contra Calumniatorem
Platonis, and his Orationes de gravissimis Periculis, quae
rei-publicae Christianse a Turcis jam turn impendere pro-
videbat. These two last works are very scarce and much
valued by collectors. Although he left many theological
works, very few of them have been printed. In a collection
348 BEVERIDGE.
of Opuscula Theologica, published at Rome in 1634,
four of his treatises are to be found, and another, De
Sacramento Eucharistiae, was published in the Bibliotheca
Patrum, at Paris. — Hodius de Greeds illustribus. Cave.
Fabricius. Perceval Roman Schism. Palmer on the Church.
Gibbon. Mosheim.
Beveeidge, William, was born in the year 1636-7,
at Barrow upon Soar, near Loughborough, in Leicester-
shire. Having received his primary education, first under
his father, and afterwards at Okeham school, in the county
of Rutland, he was, in 1653, admitted as a sizar at St
John's college, Cambridge. Here his attention was direct-
ed not only to classical pursuits, but to the study also of
the oriental languages ; a study which he recommended
in a Latin treatise, and still more effectually by the pub-
lication of a Syriac grammar, composed when he was only
eighteen years of age, and published two years after.
These publications were of much service in their day, and
were both of them reprinted in 1664. His character at
college, however, was established, not only for proficiency
as a scholar, but for the depth of his piety, and the inte-
grity of his life. What his early piety was may be seen
from a juvenile work published after his death, and even
now in high repute, his " Private Thoughts." This work
was published in 1709, and has often been reprinted. It
displays the piety of his disposition, and notwithstanding
some doctrinal errors, is much valued. He seems in this
work scarcely to have realized the Scripture view of rege-
neration, which is ably expounded in the 35th sermon of
the first volume of his works : —
But what our Lord means by being * born of water and
the Spirit,' is now made a question : I say now, for it was
never made so till of late years. For many ages together
none doubted of it, but the whole Christian world took it
for granted, that our Saviour, by these words, meant only
that except a man be baptized according to his institution,
he cannot enter into the kingdom of God ; this being the
BEVERIDGE. 349
most plain and obvious sense of the words, forasmuch as
there is no other way of being born again of water, as well
as of the Spirit, but only in the Sacrament of Baptism.
" To understand what he means by being born again,
we must call to mind what he saith in another place,
' My kingdom is not of this world ;' (John, xviii. 36.)
though it is in this world, it is not of it; it is not a
secular or earthly kingdom, but a kingdom purely spiritual
and heavenly : ; It is not meat and drink, but righte-
ousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost ;' (Rom.
xiv. 17.) And therefore when a man is born into this
world, he is not thereby qualified for the kingdom of
God, nor hath any right title to it, no more than as
if he had not been born at all; but before he enter
into that, he must be born again, he must undergo
another kind of birth than he had before : he was before
born of the flesh, he must now be born of the Sj)irit;
otherwise he cannot be capable of entering into such
a kingdom, as is altogether spiritual. Thus our Lord
Himself explains his own meaning by adding immedi-
ately in the next words, ' That which is born of the
flesh, is flesh,' &c. . . . As if He had said, he that is
bora, as all men are at first, only of the flesh, such a one
is altogether carnal and sensual ; and so can be affected
with nothing but the sensible objects of this world. But
he that is born of the Spirit of God, thereby becomes a
spiritual creature, and so is capable of those spiritual
things of which the kingdom of God consisteth, ' even of
righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.'
And he whose mind is changed, and turned from darkness
to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, is truly
said to be born again ; because he is quickened with ano-
ther kind of life than he had before ; and to be born of
the Spirit of God, because it is by it that this new and
spiritual life is wrought in him. So that he is now born
into another world, even into the kingdom of God, where
he hath God Himself, of whom he is born, for his Father,
vol. n. 2 G
350 BEVERIDGE.
and the kingdom of God for his portion and inheritance.
And therefore it is, that except a man be thus born of the
Spirit, it is inrpossible he should enter into the kingdom
of God, seeing he can enter into it no other way, than by
being born of the Spirit.
" But thai we may thus be born of the Spirit, we must
be born also of water, which our Saviour here puts in the
first place. Not as if there was any such virtue in water,
whereby it could regenerate us, but because this is the rite
or ordinance appointed by Christ, wherein to regenerate
us by His Holy Spirit. Our regeneration is wholly the
act of the Spirit of Christ ; but there must be something
done on our parts in order to it, and something that is
instituted and ordained by Christ Himself: which in the
Old Testament was circumcision; in the New, baptism, or
washing with water : the easiest that could be invented, and
the most proper to signify His cleansing and regenerat-
ing us by His Holy Spirit. And seeing this is instituted
by Christ Himself, as we cannot be born of water without
the Spirit, neither can we, in an ordinary way, be born of
the Spirit without water, used or applied in obedience
and conformity to His institution. Christ hath joined
them together, and it is not in our power to part them :
he that would be bom of the Spirit, must be born of water
too
"As baptizing necessarily implies the use. of water, so
our being made thereby disciples of Christ, as necessarily
implies our partaking of His Spirit : for all that are bap-
tized, and so made the disciples of Christ, are thereby
made the members of His Body ; and are therefore said
to be baptized into Christ, (Rom. vi. 5. Gal. hi. 27.) But
they who are in Christ, members of His Body, must needs
partake of the Spirit that is in Him their Head. Neither
doth the Spirit of Christ only follow upon, but certainly
accompanies the Sacrament of Baptism, when duly ad-
ministered according to His institution. For as St Paul
saith, ' By one Spirit we are all baptized into one Body/
BEVERIDGE. 351
(1 Cor. xii. 13.) So that in the very act of baptism, the
Spirit unites us unto Christ, and makes us members of
His Body; and if of His Body, then of His Church and
Kingdom, that being all His Body. And therefore all
who are rightly baptized with water, being at the same
time baptized also with the Holy Ghost, and so born of
water and the Spirit, they are, ipso facto, admitted into
the Kingdom of God, established upon earth, and if it
be not their own fault, will as certainly attain to that
which is in heaven."
A little further on he says : — " This I would desire all
here present to take special notice of, that you may not be
deceived by a sort of people risen up among us, who being
led, as they pretend, by the light within them, are fallen
into such horrid darkness, and damnable heresies, that
they have quite laid a-ide the Sacrament of Baptism, and
affirm, in flat contradiction to our Saviour's words, that
they may be saved without it. I pray God to open their
eyes, that they may not g > blindfold into eternal damna-
tion. And I advise you all, as you desire not to apostatize
from the Christian religion, and as you tender your eter-
nal salvation, take heed that you be never seduced by
them, under any pretence whatsoever ; but rather, if you
be acquainted with any of them, do what you can to turn
them from darkness to light, from the power of Satan unto
God again ; that they may obtain forgiveness of their
sins, and inheritance among them who are sanctified
by faith in Him who saith, ' Except a man be born of
water,' &c.
" Not only a man, in contradiction to a child, or a
woman, but as it is in the original, Idv pn m, except any
one, any human creature whatsoever, man, woman, or child,
' except he be born of water," &c. ... So that our Lord is
so far from excluding children from baptism, that He
plainly includes them, speaking in such general terms,
on purpose that we may know that no sort of people, old
or young, can ever be saved without it. And so He doth
too, where He commands, as was observed before, that
352 BEVEPJDGR
'All nations should be made disciples by being baptized
in the name of,' . . . . For, under all nations, children
must needs be comprehended, which make a great, if not
the greatest part of all nations. And although these
general expressions be sufficient to demonstrate the neces-
sity of infant baptism, yet foreseeing that ignorant and
unlearned people would be apt to wrest the Scriptures
to their own destruction, He elsewhere commands chil-
dren particularly to be brought unto Him, saying, ' Suffer
the little children,' &c. (Mark, x. 14.) But if the kingdom
of God consist of children, as well as other people, they
must of necessity be baptized, or born of water and the
Spirit ; for otherwise, He Himself saith, * They cannot
enter into the kingdom.'
" Hence it is, that we find the apostles baptizing whole
families, children, if any, as well as others : and the whole
Catholic Church, in all places and ages ever since, hath
constantly admitted the children of believing parents into
the Church, by baptizing them according to the institution
and command of our Saviour ; none ever making any
question of it, but all Christians, all the world over,
taking it for granted that it ought to be done, till of late
years."
On the third of January, 1660 — 1, he was ordained
deacon by bishop Sanderson, and, on the thirty-first
of the same month, was admitted into priest's orders.
About the same time Dr Gilbert Sheldon, then bishop of
London, collated him to the vicarage of Ealing, in the
county of Middlesex.
From his sermon " On Christ's presence with His
Ministers," we gather his sentiments on the apostolical
succession, and the sacred office to which he was now
admitted.
" In the first place I observe, how much we are all
bound to acknowledge the goodness, to praise, magnify,
and adore the Name of the Most High God, in that we
were born and bred, and still live in a church, wherein the
apostolical line hath, through all ages, been preserved
BEVERIDGE. $$$
entire ; there having been a constant succession of such
bishops in it, as were truly and properly successors to the
apostles, by virtue of that apostolical imposition of hands,
which being begun by the apostles, hath been continued
from one to another, ever since their time, down to ours.
By which means the same Spirit which was breathed by our
Lord into his apostles is, together with their office, trans-
mitted to their lawful successors, the pastors and governors
of our church at this time ; and acts, moves, and assists
at the administration of the several parts of the apostolical
office in our days, as much as ever. From whence it
follows, that the means of grace which we now enjoy are
in themselves as powerful and effectual as they were in
the apostles' days, &c
"And this, I verily believe, is the great reason why the
devil has such a great spite at our church, still stirring
up adversaries of all sorts against it, — papists on the one
hand, and sectaries on the other, and all, if possible, to
destroy it ; even because the Spirit which is ministered in
it, is so contrary to his nature, and so destructive of his
kingdom, that he can never expect to domineer and
tyrannize over the people of the land, so long as such
a church is settled among them, and they continue
firm to it. . . .
" As for schism, they certainly hazard their salvation at
a strange rate, who separate themselves from such a
church as ours is, wherein the apostolical succession, the
root of all Christian communion, hath been so entirely
preserved, and the word and sacraments are so effectually
administered ; and all to go into such assemblies and
meetings, as can have no pretence to the great promise in
my text. (Matt, xxviii. 20.) For it is manifest, that this
promise was made only to the apostles and their succes-
sors to the end of the world. Whereas, in the private
meetings, where their teachers have no apostolical or
episcopal imposition of hands, they have no ground to
succeed the apostles, nor by consequence any right to the
2g2
354 BEVERIDGE.
Spirit which our Lord hath ; without which, although
they preach their hearts out, I do not see what spiritual
advantage can accrue to their hearers by it," &c
At Ealing he remained for twelve years, and here he
was able to pursue his studies while discharging with dili-
gence his parochial duties. The result of his studies was
apparent in 1669, in the appearance of his Institutionum
Chronologicarum libri duo, una cum totidem Arithmetices
Chronological Libellis. Although it was regarded by the
author only as an elementary work, it has been made use
of by subsequent chronologers, and was so well received
at the time of its publication, that new editions were
required in 1705, and in 1721. His great work ap-
peared in 1672, entitled Zuvo&xov, sive Pandectse Canonum
SS. Apostolorum et Conciliorum ab Ecclesia Graeca recep-
torum ; nee non Canonicarum SS. Patrum Epistolarum ;
una cum Schohis Antiquorum singulis eorum annexis,
et Scriptis aliis hue spectantibus ; quorum plurima e
Bibliothecae Bodleianse, aliarumque MSS. Codicibus nunc
primum edita: reliqua cum iisdem MSS. summa Fide et
Diligentia collata. Totum Opus, in duos Tomos divisum,
Gulielmus Beveregius, Ecclesise Anglican® Presbyter,
recensuit, Prolegomenis et Annotationibus auxit, 2 vols,
folio.
The first volume contains the canons that have been
assigned to the apostles, those of the two Nicene councils,
of four Constantinopolitan councils, and of other Asiatic
councils, together with the arguments and Arabic para-
phrase of Joseph, surnamed the Egyptian, on the canons
of the first four general councils ; the whole being prefaced
by the learned editor's Prolegomena The second volume
contains the canons of Dionysius and Peter, both of
Alexandria; various monuments of oriental episcopacy;
the Syntagma, or alphabetical index, compiled by Michael
Blastaris ; the acts of the synod, which restored Photius
to the patriarchate of Constantinople, and those of the
eighth council held there. The work has Greek in one
BEVERIDGE. 355
column, and a Latin translation in the other, and com-
prises the Scholia of learned orientals on most of the
canons, together with copious notes by Beveridge himself.
The "Pandectae Canonum," as Mr Home observes, con-
tinues to hold a distinguished place in public libraries, as
a book of permanent authority and reference in all matters
of controversy relative to the doctrines or discipline of the
Christian Church.
The publication of this great work appears to have
excited considerable attention upon the Continent, where
some of his opinions, relative to the date of the canons
attributed to the apostles, were attacked in an anonymous
tract, now known to have been written by Matthieu de
Larroque, a minister of the French reformed church at
Rouen; who, in 1674, published ' Observationes in Igna-
tianas Pearsonii Vindicis, et in Adnotationes Beveridgii
in Canones Apostolorum.' Rothomagi, 8vo. This called
forth a reply from Dr Beveridge, intituled, ' Codex
Canonum Ecclesiaa Primitives Vindicatus et Illustratue.
Londini, 1697,' in 4to.
In his notes on these canons, he had fixed their date
to the end of the second, or beginning of the third
century ; taking a middle course between the opinion of
Francesco Turriano, who affirmed that they were all made
by the apostles at the council of Jerusalem, and that of
Jean Daille, an eminent minister of the French reformed
church at Paris, who maintained they were the production
of some anonymous writer, who forged these pretended
apostolical canons before the end of the fifth century.
The strictures of Beveridge on the hypothesis of Daille
called forth the observations of Larroque, to whom the
' Codex Canonum Primitivae Ecclesiae Vindicatus' is de-
signed as a reply. The bishop has here re- asserted and
vindicated the date which he had assigned to these
canons, with much learning and ingenuity. The judg-
ment, however, of the learned is not in unison with his
Vindication. These pseudepigraphal canons are unques-
tionably of great antiquity: but although they bear the
356 BEVERIDGE.
name of the apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ, they are
destitute of the external evidence necessary to support that
claim, not having been quoted by any Christian writer of
the first three centuries.
From the Codex Canonum Eccles. Prim. Vindicatus ac
illustratus we may gather Beveridge's church principles.
" Seeing," he says " that no one doubts but that more
confidence is to be placed in the whole body than in indi-
vidual Christians, and more in the universal Church than
in any particular churches whatsoever : seeing also that
there are very many points in which the universal Church,
during many ages after the apostles, agreed : seeing, finally,
that this consent of the universal Church is the surest in-
terpretation of holy Scripture on those points on which it
may be had : it hence most clearly follows, of what and
how" great use the andent fathers, and other writers of all
ages of the Church, must be, and how necessary to be con-
sulted by them, who, in the prosecution of ecclesiastical
controversies, have at heart either their own salvation, or
the peace of the Church. For, were there no commentaries
of the ancient church, no acts of councils, no monuments
of ecclesiastical history, extant at this day, in how great
darkness should we be involved respecting our very reli-
gion itself? How easy would it be for any subtle heretic,
or even for any the most flagitious impostor, under the
mask of piety, to deceive the generality, and to lead them
into the most pernicious errors of every description ?
Who could then convict the church of Rome, or any other,
even the most corrupt communion, of fault or error, in
those particulars which are not expressly prohibited in
holy Scripture ? For whence could it be proved, whether
those things which are in use in that church had, or had
not, been handed down from the very apostles, and ap-
proved by the consent of the universal Church ? Finally,
how many and how great disadvantages of every kind
would arise hence ? But there is no reason that we should
occupy our time in the enumeration of these things, seeing
that amidst so many and so great confusions of empires,
BEVERIDGE. 357
convulsions of particular churches, and perturbation of all
human affairs, it hath been so ordered by the most wise
and merciful providence of Almighty G od, that from the
veiy times of the apostles even unto these our own times,
there is no age whose ecclesiastical memorials are not
preserved to us. From which memorials accordingly we
are enabled to conceive a perfect idea of the universal
Church, and to feel assured and certain, what has through
all ages been admitted and what rejected : what rites and
doctrines have prevailed, what heresies and schisms have
been disapproved and condemned. Finally, from these
and these alone we may see, on what points of doctrine
and discipline, agreement hath ever prevailed among all
churches, and on what again, controversy hath existed
between them, and consequently what is more, and what
less, necessary to be believed and observed. For whatever
is to be said of other things, those things at any rate in
which all churches every where have agreed, cannot but
be most certain, and necessary, even at this very time, to
be retained of all."
His view of our reformation also is admirable, on which
subject he remarks, " When this our English church,
through long communion with the Roman church, had
contracted like stains with her, from which it was neces-
sary that it should be cleansed, they who took that excel-
lent and very necessary work in hand, fearing that they,
like others, might rush from one extreme to the other,
removed indeed those things, as well doctrines as ceremo-
nies, which the Roman church had newly and insensibly
superinduced, and, as was fit, abrogated them utterly.
Yet notwithstanding, whatsoever things had been, at all
times, believed and observed, by all churches, in all places,
those things they most religiously took care not so to
abolish with them. For they well knew, that all par-
ticular churches are to be formed on the model of the
universal Church, according to that general and received
rule in ethics, ' every part which agreeth not with its
whole is therein base.' Hence therefore these first re-
358 BEVERIDGE.
formers of this particular church directed the whole line
of that reformation, which they undertook, according to
the rule of the whole or universal Church, casting away
those things only which had been either unheard of, or
rejected by, the universal Church, but most religiously
retaining those which they saw, on the other side, corro-
borated by the consent of the universal Church. Whence
it hath been brought to pass, that although we have not
communion with the Roman, nor with certain other par-
ticular Churches, as at this day constituted, yet have we
abiding communion with the universal and Catholic
Church, of which evidently ours, as by the aid of God first
constituted, and by his pity still preserved, is the perfect
image and representation.
" But, that we digress no further from our proposed
object, when we are speaking of the universal Church, and
its agreement, without any doubt, regard is to be had
especially to the primitive church : inasmuch as, although
it be only a part of the whole, yet is it universally agreed
that it was the more pure and genuine part. For the
same hath happened to the Church, which hath happened
to each several commonwealth, namely, that, ancient
customs passing by degrees into disuse, new institutions
are devised by the wanton imaginations of men's minds,
which very fault is above all other to be eschewed in
religion. For it is agreed among all Christians, that the
Apostolic Church as constituted by the apostles of our
Lord in person, under the guidance of divine inspiration,
and by them whilst yet living administered, was of all
churches the purest and most perfect. Furthermore
nothing seems more at variance with the common faith of
Christians than that the doctrine or discipline instituted
by the apostles, should have been corrupted or any way
changed by their immediate successors. For all confess,
that the apostles were most faithful men, and of conse-
quence willed to ordain none as their successors, except
those whose faith and integrity were fully approved by
themselves . personally. Therefore the first successors of
BEVERIDGE. 359
the apostles doubtless kept inviolate and uncorrupted the
Church, whose government had been entrusted to them ;
and in like manner handed it down to their own successors,
and these again to others, and so on ; insomuch that there
can exist no doubt, but that at least during two or three
ages from the apostles the Church flourished in her primi-
tive vigour, and, so to say, in her virgin estate, that is, in
the same condition in which she had been left by the
apostles themselves ; except that from time to time new
heresies burst forth even in those days, by which the
Church was indeed harassed, but in no way corrupted ;
clearly no more than the church, strictly apostolic, was
perverted by those errors, which arose whilst the apostles
were yet living. For they had scarcely time to rise up,
before they were rejected by the Catholic Church. Which
things therefore notwithstanding, the universal Church
which followed ever held that primitive church to be most
pure, and, in refuting all heresies which afterwards arose,
appealed to her as the rule of other churches. For if
any one endeavoured to bring any thing new into the
doctrine or discipline of the Church, those fathers who
opposed themselves to him, whether individually or
assembled together in a body, sought their arguments, as
out of the holy Scriptures, so also out of the doctrines and
traditions of the church of the first ages. For this is ob-
servable in nearly all acts of councils, and commentaries
of individual fathers, wherever, that is, ecclesiastical con-
troversies are discussed. And indeed nothing still is
more rational, nothing certainly more desirable, than
that all particular churches at this day wherever consti-
tuted, were reformed after the model of the primitive
church. For this measure would immediately cast forth
whatever corruptions have crept in during later ages, and
would restore to their ancient original all things which
are required for the true constitution of a Christian
church."
In November, 1672, Beveridge was instituted to the
rectory of St Peter's, Cornhill, London, and resigned the
360 BEVEKIDGE.
vicarage of Ealing. In December, the year following, he
was collated by bishop Henchman to the prebend of
Chiswick, in St Paul's cathedral: in 1679 he took his DD
degree; and in November, 1681, he was made archdeacon
of Colchester, being collated thereto by bishop Compton.
His conscientious mind, upon his appointment to so
important a cure as that of St Peter's, withdrew from
those learned labours which had hitherto been his delight,
and he devoted himself exclusively, with primitive zeal
and piety, to the duties of the pastoral office. His labours
were incessant : he established weekly communions and
daily service. It is not surprising that he should appoint
weekly communions, as, in his "Private Thoughts," he
thus states his faith with regard to the Holy Eucharist :
" As Baptism thus comes in the place of the Jew's Cir-
cumcision, so doth our Lord's Supper answer to their
Passover. Their Paschal Lamb represented our Saviour
Christ, and the sacrificing of it, the shedding of His
Blood upon the cross ; and as the passover was the memo-
rial of the Israelites' redemption from Egypt's bondage,
(Ex. xii. 14.) so is the Lord's Supper the memorial of our
redemption from the slavery of sin, and assertion into
Christian liberty; or, rather, it is a solemn and lively
representation of the death of Christ, and offering it again
to God, as an atonement for sin, and reconciliation to His
favour.
" So that I believe this Sacrament of the Lord's Supper,
under the gospel, succeeds to the right of sacrificing under
the law, and is properly called the Christian Sacrifice, as
representing the Sacrifice of Christ upon the cross."
In another place, after referring to the sacrifices and
offerings of the Jews, he remarks, " there were many such
ways, whereby the people of God, in those days, were
constantly put in mind of what the Saviour of the world
was to do, and suffer for them. All which are now laid
aside, and only this one Sacrament of His last supper,
instituted by Himself, in the room of them. This is now
our Christian shewbread, whereby we ' shew the Lord's
BEVERIDGE. 361
death till He come.' This is our burnt-offering, our sin-
offering, our trespass-offering, our thank-offering, our meat-
offering, our drink-offering, and all the offerings required
of us, whereby to commemorate our blessed Saviour, and
what He hath done for us ; and, therefore, as the Jews
were punctual and constant in observing all things pre-
scribed to them, for the same end we certainly ought to
do this as often as we can : this one thing, which answers
the end of all their offerings, and yet hath neither the
trouble, nor the charges, nor the difficulty of any one of
them."
His exhortations to his people to attend daily service
were very urgent. He observes in his sermon " On the
Advantage of Public Prayer," that " the more pleasing
any duty is to God, the more profitable it is to those who
do it. And therefore He having so often, both by word
and deed, manifested Himself well-pleased with the public
or common service which His people perform to Him, we
cannot doubt but they always receive proportionable ad-
vantage from it. The Jews call stated public prayers
Stations; and have a saying among them, * That without
such stations the world could not stand.' Be sure no
people have any ground to expect public peace and tran-
quillity, without praising and praying publicly unto Him,
who alone can give it. But if all the people (suppose of
this nation) should every day with one heart and mouth
join together in our common supplications to Almighty
God, how happy should we then be ? how free from dan-
ger ? how safe and secure under His protection ? This is
the argument which Christ Himself useth, why 'Men
ought always to pray, and not to faint ;' in the parable of
the unjust judge, who was at last prevailed with to grant
a widow's request, merely by her importunity in asking it.
' And shall not God,' saith He, ' avenge His own elect,
which cry day and night unto Him, though He bear long
with them? I tell you that He will avenge them speedily.'
But then He adds, 'Nevertheless, when the Son of Man
VOL. II 2 h
362 BEVERIDGE.
coineth, shall He find faith on the earth ?' (Luke, xvii.
7, 8.) As if He had said, God will most certainly avenge
and protect those who cry day and night, morning and
evening, to Him. But men will not believe this ; and that
is the reason why there are so few who believe that He
will hear their prayers, according to His promise. But
blessed be God, though they be but few, there are some,
who really believe God's Word, and accordingly pray
every morning and evening, not only for themselves, but
for the country where they live, for all their governors
both in church and state, and for all sorts and conditions
of men among us. To these the whole kingdom is be-
holden for its support and preservation. If they should
once fail, I know not what would become of us. But so
long as there are pious and devout persons crying day and
night to God for aid and defence against our enemies, we
need not fear any hurt they can ever do us; at least
according to God's ordinary course of dealing in the
world."
It is thus that the character of Beveridge as a parish
priest is described by a contemporary : " How powerful
and instructive was he in all his discourses from the
pulpit ! How warm and affectionate in his private exhor-
tations ! How orthodox in his doctrine ! How regular
and uniform in the public worship of the church ! In a
word, so zealous was he, and heavenly-minded, in all the
spiritual exercises of his parochial function, and his
labours were so remarkably crowned with blessing and
success, that, as he himself was justly styled the great
reviver and restorer of primitive piety, so his parish was
deservedly proposed as the best model and pattern for its
neighbours to copy after."
Equally diligent he was as an archdeacon, visiting
every parish in his archdeaconry. In the year 1684 he
succeeded Dr Peter Du Moulin in a stall in Canterbury
cathedral ; and some time between the following year and
1688, he became associated with Dr Horneck in directing
the religious societies which had begun to be formed in
BEVERIDGE. :>03
London, and which soon extended to different parts of the
country. They were intended at first to stop the progress
of popery by piety and prayer, although they were looked
upon with jealousy by some among the ultra-protestants.
Their object may be gathered from the principles upon
which each society was conducted. The members of this
society shall heartily endeavour, through God's grace,
1. To be just in all their dealings, even to an exem-
plary strictness.
2. To pray many times every day; remembering our
continual dependence upon God, both for spiritual and
temporal things.
3. To partake of the Lord's Supper at least once a
month, if not prevented by a reasonable impediment.
4. To practise the profoundest meekness and humility.
5. To watch against censuring others.
6. To accustom themselves to holy thoughts in all
places.
7. To be helpful one to another.
8. To exercise tenderness, patience, and compassion,
towards all men.
9. To make reflections on themselves when they read
the Holy Bible, or other good books, and when they hear
sermons.
10. To shun all foreseen occasions of evil ; as evil
company, known temptations, &c.
11. To think often on the different estates of the glori-
fied and the damned in the unchangeable eternity to
which we are hastening.
12. To examine themselves every night, what good or
evil they have done in the day past.
13. To keep a private fast once a month (especially
near their approach to the Lord's table), if at their own
disposal; or to fast from some meals when they may
conveniently.
14. To mortify the flesh, with its affections and lusts.
15. To advance in heavenly-mindedness, and in all
grace,
864 BEVERIDGE.
16. To shun spiritual pride, and the effects of it, as
railing, anger, peevishness, and impatience of contradic-
tion, and the like.
17. To pray for the whole society in their private
prayers.
18. To read pious books often for their edification, but
especially the Holy Bible : and herein particularly,
Matt. v. vi. vii. Luke, xv. xvi. Rorn. xii. xiii. Eph. v.
vi. 1 Thess. v. Rev. i. ii. iii. xxi. xxii.
And in the Old Testament, Lev. xxvi. Deut. xxviii.
Isa. liii. Ezek. xxxvi.
19. To be continually mindful of the great obligation
of this special profession of religion ; and to walk so cir-
cumspectly, that none may be offended or discouraged
from it by what they may see in them ; nor occasion given
to any to speak reproachfully of it.
20. To shun all manner of affectation and moroseness ;
and be of a civil and obliging deportment to all men.
Thus the object of these societies, in the direction of
which Dr Beveridge held so conspicuous a place, was, first
and principally, to promote edification and personal piety
in their several members, for which purpose their rules
appear to have been well calculated. They did not, how-
ever, confine themselves to this single design, but endea-
voured to promote piety in others in various ways. For
this purpose they procured sermons to be preached every
Sunday evening in many of the largest churches in the
city, either by way of preparation for the Lord's Supper,
or to engage communicants to a suitable holiness of life
after partaking of that sacrament, which was also adminis-
tered in many churches every Sunday. They further
extended their charity to deserving objects in all parts of
London and its suburbs ; and by the pecuniary collections
which they procured to be made, many clergymen were
maintained to read prayers in so many places, and at so
many different hours, that devout persons might have that
comfort at every hour of the day. Among other benefits
which resulted from these religious associations, was the
BEVERIDGE. 365
institution of societies for reformation of manners, and
the establishment of the two venerable societies for Pro-
moting Christian Knowledge at home as well as abroad,
and for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts ; both of
which subsist to this day with increasing activity and
usefulness.
To the revolution of 1688 Dr Beveridge gave his
adhesion. The question of submitting to the government
de facto was a difficult one, and while some of the most
orthodox of our divines declined the oath of allegiance
to one whom they regarded as a usurper, carrying with
them the reputation of devotedness to their spiritual duties
and indifference to their secular interests ; others, like
Dr Beveridge, as devoted and as disinterested, took a
different view of their duty, and to escape the miseries of
popery, acquiesced in the revolution when it had been
effected. The latter underwent trials as well as the non-
jurors : to generous minds it is grievous to have sordid
motives attributed to them to account for their conduct,
and to affectionate hearts the disruption of old friendships,
occasioned by differences of opinion, is peculiarly painful.
The temporary association with uncongenial spirits, also,
must have been anything but agreeable ; and there are few
who could have been less congenial to Dr Beveridge than
such men as Tillotson and Burnet, with whom, up to a
certain point, he was now compelled to act. The minds
of men had been agitated by the political revolution,
and their principles were shaken ; Tillotson and Burnet,
therefore, thought this a fitting opportunity to revolu-
tionize the Church, by the sacrifice of catholic practice,
and the adoption of ultra-protestant principles, making
the breach wider between the church of England and
the church of Rome, and vainly hoping to conciliate
the multitudinous sects of ultra-protestants. The desire
was to retreat, as far as possible, from all positive,
objective, and dogmatic theology, and to form a politic
union between parties who could not be united by a bond
2 2h
366 BEVERIDGE.
of love, but might be united by a bond of common hatred,
— the hatred of popery. It was attempted at first to carry
this point by act of parliament ; but the church of England
was not reduced as yet to its present state of degradation,
nor would the majority of her bishops have consented to
parliamentary legislation on that point. The non-jurors
were strong in principle, and they would have been so
increased in point of numbers, had parliament attempted
to interfere with the internal arrangements of the Church,
that the impolicy of such a proceeding would have been
apparent, even if better principles had not prevailed in
parliament itself. Parliament declined to interfere until
convocation had been consulted : both houses presented
an address to the king, praying, that " according to the
ancient practice and usage of this kingdom in time of
parliament, his majesty would be graciously pleased to
issue forth his writs, as soon as conveniently might be,
for calling a convocation of this kingdom, to be advised
with in ecclesiastical matters." A sentiment of this
nature, entertained so cordially by the house of commons,
from which it emanated, was of course responded to by
the clergy, and Tillotson yielded to the necessity of the
case. To make all arrangements requisite for the convo-
cation, a commission was issued on the 13th of September,
1689, to ten bishops and twenty other divines, requiring
" them to prepare such alterations of the liturgy and
canons, and such proposals for the reformation of the
ecclesiastical courts, and to consider such other matters as
might most conduce to the good order and edification and
unity of the church of England." The name of Beveridge
appeared in the commission. By those who were the
authors of the movement it was proposed that the follow-
ing changes should be made :
Chanting to be discontinued.
Certain select psalms to be read on Sundays ; but the
daily course not to be altered.
The omission of the apocryphal lessons, and of some
from the Old Testament.
BEVERIDGE. 367
A rubric on the usefulness of the sign of the cross in
baptism. The use of it to be omitted altogether when
desired.
The sacramental elements to be administered in pews,
to those who might object to kneeling.
A rubric declaring that Lent fasts consisted in extra-
ordinary acts of devotion, not in distinctions of meats ;
and another to explain the meaning of the Ember
weeks.
The rubric enjoining the daily reading or hearing of
common prayer on the clergy to be changed into an
exhortation.
The Absolution to be read by deacons ; the word
minister being substituted for priest; and the words
" remission of sins" omitted as not very intelligible.
The Gloria Patri not to be repeated at the end of
every psalm.
In the Te Deum, the words only begotten Son, substi-
tuted for Thine honourable, true, and only Son.
The 138th psalm to be substituted for the Benedicite ;
and other psalms for the Benedictus and Nunc Dimittis.
The versicles after the Lord's Prayer to be read
kneeling ; and after the words " Give peace, &c," an
answer promissory, on the part of the people, of keeping
God's law: the old response being supposed by the
commissioners to savour of too strong a view of predes-
tination.
All titles of the king and queen to be omitted, and
the word " Sovereign" only used.
In the prayer for the king, the clause, " Grant that
he may vanquish, &c," changed into, " Prosper all his
righteous undertakings against Thy enemies."
The words, " who worketh great marvels," changed
into, " who alone art the author of all good gifts ;" and
the words, " the holy Spirit of Thy grace," substituted
for " the healthful Spirit of Thy grace." The reason
assigned for the latter was this, that the word healthful
was obsolete.
368 BEVERIDGE.
The prayer, " 0 God, whose nature and property,"
to be omitted, as full of strange and impertinent ex-
pressions.
The collects to be revised by the bishop of Chichester.
If a minister refused the surplice, and the people
desired it, the bishop to be at liberty to appoint another,
providing the living would bear it.
Sponsors to be disused, and children to be presented
in the name of their parents, if desired.
A rubric to declare, that the curses in the Athanasian
Creed are confined to those who deny the substance of
the Christian religion.
Certain alterations to be made in the Litany, the Com-
munion Service, and the Canons.
Many other verbal alterations were suggested, and
several things were left to the care of Tenison.
Such were the alterations proposed, and it is surpris-
ing, as well as satisfactory, to find that much would now
be freely tolerated even by ultra-protestants, which the
liberal churchmen of the revolution were prepared to
concede. The convocation assembled, and Dr Beveridge
was appointed to preach the Concio ad elerum ; when he
hesitated not to take the opportunity of declaring against
any concessions or alterations. His whole discourse,
grounded on the text, 1 Cor. xi. 16, " If any man seem
to be contentious, we have no such custom, neither the
churches of God," is an able argument to this effect.
The convocation met in the month of December,
and the business that first engaged their attention, the
appointment of a prolocutor in the lower house, fur-
nished a favourable opportunity for trying the strength
of the two contending parties, and bringing all their
differences, whether ecclesiastical or civil, to an issue.
The court party proposed Dr Tillotson as their candidate.
The candidate of the opposite party was Dr Jane, dean of
Gloucester, and regius professor of divinity at Oxford,
who was known to be a divine of great reading and
resolution. He was elected by a large majority; and when
•BEVERIDGE. 369
the bishops sent down an address acknowledging the
protection his majesty had afforded to religion in general,
and especially to their own established form of it, but so
expressed as to include the church of England under the
general title of protestant churches, the lower house re-
quired the expression to be altered, on the avowed
principle that they disowned all communion with foreign
protestants. The case was too manifest to be misunder-
stood : and the king readily adopted the only alternative
remaining to him, of discontinuing the session.
The independent conduct of Dr Beveridge did not at
once alienate from him the revolutionary court. Among
the more eminent of the clergy, most of those who held
sound church principles had been driven from their
posts, and the administration of the church was now for
the most part in the hands of men prepared for political
purposes to sacrifice every church principle. Dr Beveridge,
therefore, was not to be overlooked by the revolutionary
government : an attempt was still made to bribe him to
the Dutch interest. In 1690 he was nominated chaplain
to the revolutionary royal family, and in 1691 he was
offered the bishopric of Bath and Wells. It was a diffi-
cult point to settle whether he could conscientiously accept
the offer : he was in a novel position in which he had no
precedents to guide him. He had consented to the revo-
lution, as several other sound churchmen did, but the see
of Bath and Wells was not vacant. The great and good
Dr Ken had not been canonically deprived, neither had
he tendered his resignation. Could he be considered as
virtually resigning the bishopric by not taking the oaths,
as king James II. was regarded as having virtually abdi-
cated the throne when he fled the kingdom ? It may be
easy, in the opinion of some, to answer the question now,
but it was very different to those who were in the midst
of the conflict. Beveridge consulted archbishop Sancroft,
but Sancroft, angry with him for having consented to the
revolution, gave him a sarcastic rather than a satisfactory
370 BEVERIDGE.
answer ; but Dr Beveridge, after weighing all the circum-
stances of the case, at the end of three weeks refused to
accept a bishopric which was not canonically vacant. He
acted nobly. He did not violate his conscience to please
those with whom he was politically acting, and who must
have plied him with arguments to justify such conduct as
they themselves adopted : the non-jurors only despised
him for not going further, and he met with no sympathy
from them. But he pursued his own course ; while he
submitted to the government, he would not sanction an
unjust and uncanonical proceeding, nor would he usurp
the office or eat the bread of another. William and his
government were now exasperated against him, and deter-
mined that he should receive no other preferment from
them. He continued for thirteen years in his honourable
office of parish priest, complacent, doubtless, in the happy
thought that he had sacrificed wealth and high station to
sound church principles, and though he was misunder-
stood by the two extremes, the integrity of his heart was
known to the God whom he loved and served. He did
not relax in his laborious duties, but discharged them
with an assiduity best evinced by the general success
which attended his ministry.
In 1701 — 2, Dr Beveridge was proposed as prolocutor
of the lower house of convocation by the whigs, who shewed
their wisdom in selecting a man so moderate in his poli-
tical, while he was so decided in his church, principles ;
but the intrigues of Atterbury procured the election of Dr
Woodward, dean of Sarum. Beveridge was advanced in
years before he had another offer of a bishopric. He was
consecrated on the 6th of July, 1704, having been elected
to the see of St Asaph. With his usual conscientious
diligence he commenced his new duties, and shewed that
age had not weakened his faculties. A parish priest him-
self, he knew how to sympathize with parish priests, and
immediately addressed himself, as chief pastor, to a subject
bearing upon the welfare equally of the clergy and laity.
BEVERIDGE. 37]
He addressed a letter to his clergy, in which he recom-
mended to them the duty of catechising ; and in order to
enable them to do this the more effectually, he, in the
course of the same year, sent them a plain and easy expla-
nation of the catechism of the church of England. How
readily would the clergy give heed to the bishop who could
appeal to his own practice, to prove the practical wisdom
of his advice ; how gratefully would they accept the assist-
ance which he offered to enable the least experience to
act upon his suggestion. The introductory paragraph of
his address to his clergy affords a pleasing evidence of the
deep view which bishop Beveridge took of his high and
responsible office.
" Brethren, beloved in the Lord,
As God our Saviour, the head of the whole Church,
which He hath purchased with His blood, hath been
pleased to call me, the unworthiest of His servants, to
take care of that part of it which He hath planted in the
diocese to which you belong ; so I verily believe and
expect that He will ere long call me to give Him an account
how I have discharged the trust, and performed the duty,
which He hath laid upon me. The consideration whereof
hath made me very solicitous and thoughtful what to do,
and how I may behave myself in this place and station,
so that I may appear before Him at that day with joy,
and not with shame and grief."
In the subsequent part of this address he earnestly and
affectionately presses the duty of frequent and public
catechising ; and in conclusion, tells his clergy, that
11 having spent some thoughts about catechising in general,
so as to attain the end of it in the way that is here pro-
posed ; and having accordingly drawn up a short explica-
tion of the catechism which our Church hath set forth,
he thought good to present them with it, as a testimony
of his readiness to contribute what he can towards the
laying the foundation in some, as well as to the building
up others, of the diocese in our most holy faith."
372 BEVERIDGE.
Nor did the good bishop forget his duties as a peer of
the realm : he attended in the house of lords as often as
the duties of his bishopric would permit him ; on every
occasion evincing himself a steady defender of the rights
and privileges of the Church. He foresaw the danger
which threatened true religion, by the union of England
and Scotland, and he steadily opposed a measure by which
the interests of the Church were sacrificed to political
expediency, and a permanency given to the presbyterian
establishment. He appeared in the house of lords for the
last time on the 20th of January, 1707-8, and died on
the following 5th of March.
Among the charitable bequests of this Anglican saint,
he left £20 a year to the curate of Mount Sorrel, and the
vicarage of Barrow, on condition that prayers should be
offered every day morning and evening in the chapel and
parish church respectively ; together with the sum of forty
shillings to be divided equally at Christmas-eve among
such poor housekeepers of Barrow, as the minister and
churchwardens should agree, regard being especially had
to those u'ho had most constantly attended the daily prayers
and the sacrament of the Lord's Supper the preceding year.
We presume that this bequest is enjoyed, and these duties
performed, at the present time. He left his library in
trust to his wife's nephew, Dr William Stanley, to be
placed in the cathedral church of St Paul, as the founda-
tion of a library for the benefit of the clergy of the city of
London. To the society for Propagating the Gospel in
Foreign Parts he gave the sum of £100. He had been
married, but of his wife nothing is known, except that she
died before him without issue.
With the exception of a few occasional sermons,
and the catechism explained, bishop Beveridge never
published any English works. But large quantities of
his manuscripts were printed by his executor after his
death. These posthumous works consist of sermons,
Thesaurus Theologicus, Private Thoughts, Treatises on
the Necessity and Advantages of Public Prayer, and of
BEVERIDGE. 373
Frequent Communion ; a defence of Sternhold and Hop-
kin's version of the Book of Psalms ; and an exposition
of the Thirty-nine Articles. All these, together with the
English works published by the bishop himself, were col-
lected by the Rev Thomas Hartwell Home, in 1 8-2-4, in
9 vols, 8vo, with a memoir of the author. They have
since been republished in the library of Anglo-Catholic
Theology. Considered as works never intended for pub-
lication, it is marvellous that their blemishes are so few.
There are, as we have observed,' in his works, occasional
tinges of those opinions which were rife in his younger
years, but his mind was too essentially practical to enter-
tain calvinistic notions ; and he was too entirely in earnest
in teaching positive truth, and providing real food for his
flock, to spend his time and waste his energies in the bare
contradiction of error. His labours earned for him the
title of " The Restorer and Recoverer of Primitive Piety,"
and doubtless are not lost among us. He speaks of the
church of England in high and glowing language, and
sought to " establish and make Jerusalem a praise in the
earth." He contemplated her as a true branch of the
Church catholic, and sought to bring out her primitive
and catholic character, by acting up to her acknowledged
rales, by supplying a constant round of daily services and
frequent communions, exercising a more vigorous disci-
pline, and awakening her members to a higher and holier
estimation of the 'ministration and ordinances of the
Church. He was accused by heretics of " making many
things necessary which Scripture speaks not one word of:"
and one of his calumniators observes, " that though the
bishop may have been far enough from popery, yet there
are some things in him which are agreeable to it."
Beveridge's Works with Home's Memoir. Preface to the
edition of the works in the Library of Anglo- Catholic
Theology. CardweWs Conferences.
Beverley, John of, in Latin, Johaxes Beveelactis,
vol. II. 2 I
374 BEVERLEY.
was born of a noble family among the Anglo-Saxons, at
Harpham, a small town in Northumberland. He was a pupil
of Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury, and it is said that
he himself became the instructor of the venerable Bede ;
but Mabillon thinks that the tutor of Bede was another
John of Beverley. He became first a monk, and then abbot,
of St Hilda. He soon rose in favour with Alfred, king
of Northumberland, who, in the year 685, gave him the
see of Hagustald or Hexham, and in 687, translated him
to that of York. In 704 this prelate founded a college
at Beverley, for secular priests, which was afterwards
endowed with very considerable immunities. Among
other privileges, it had that of asylum, or sanctuary, for
debtors, and persons suspected of capital crimes. Within
it stood a chair of stone with this inscription : " Hsec
sedes lapidea freedstool dicitur, i. e. Pacis Cathedra, ad
quam reus fugiendo perveniens omnimodam habet securi-
tatem." That is, " this stone seat, is called freedstool, i. e.
the chair of peace, to which what criminal soever flies has
full protection." After he had governed the see of York
thirty-four years, he divested himself of his episcopal cha-
racter, and retired to Beverley ; and four years after died
in the odour of sanctity, on the 7th of May, 7 31. About
the middle of the 16th century, says Mr Camden, (m the
year 1564,) upon opening a grave, they met with a vault
of squared free-stone, fifteen feet long, and two feet broad
at the head, but at the feet a foot ancfa half broad. With-
in it was a sheet of lead four feet long, and in that the
ashes, and six beads, (whereof three crumbled to dust
with a touch, and of three remaining, two were supposed
to be cornelian) with three great brass pins, and four large
iron nails. Upon the sheet lay a leaden plate, with a
Latin inscription to the following purpose. In the year
of our Lord 1188, this church was burnt in the month of
September, on the night following the feast of St Matthew
the apostle ; and in the year 1197, on the 6th of the Ides
of March, enquiry was made after the relics of St John
BEZA. 373
in this place, and these bones were found in the east part
of the sepulchre, and were buried here, and there also
dust mixed with mortar was found and buried. The day
of his death was appointed a festival by a synod held at
London, in 1416. Bede, and other writers, ascribe several
miracles to John of Beverley. Between three and four
hundred years after his death, his body was taken up by
Alfric, archbishop of York, and placed in a shrine richly
adorned with silver, gold, and precious stones. We are
told that William the Conqueror, when he ravaged
Northumberland with a numerous army, spared Beverley
alone, out of a religious veneration for St John of that
place. This prelate wrote some pieces, which are men-
tioned by Bale and Pitts. Pro Luca exponenda. Homi-
liae in Evangelia. Epistolae ad Hildam Abbatissam.
Epistolse ad Herebaldum, Andenum et Bertinum. — Bede.
Stubbs. Godwin. Camden.
Beza, Theodore de, was born at Vezelai, on the 24th
of June, 1519. He was sent to Paris at an early period
of life, and placed under the protection of an uncle who
was abbot of Froidmond. In 15*28 he was sent to Orleans
as a pupil to Melchior Wolmar, a distinguished scholar,
addicted to the reformation ; and when Wolmar, through
the interest of the queen of Navarre, was appointed Greek
professor at Bourges, he was followed thither by his pupil
Beza, who remained under his tuition for six years. In
1539 Beza took the degree of licentiate in law at Orleans ;
after which he returned to Paris. Under the guidance of
Wolmar, Beza's genius had been duly cultivated, and he
was distinguished in all the branches of elegant literature
and philosophy : but for some reason or other, his morals
were not attended to by the protestant professor, for at
Paris he became so wild and dissipated, that the name of
Beza was first known to fame as the author of some clever,
but very licentious, poems. Of this publication, he, of
course, repented deeply in after life, and an ungenerous
use was made of it by his opponents, who ought to have
376 BEZA.
remembered that at this very time he became practically
acquainted with the abuses existing in the Church, and of
the absolute need there was of a reformation. The licen-
tious young man was supported by the revenues of the
priory of Longjumeau, and of another benefice, without
being in orders, and, as intellectually he was inclined to
the reformation, most probably without intention of taking
them. The privilege of commendam was indeed, as
Mr Smedley observes, one of the most fruitful sources of
disorder at this time in the Church. In the earlier
Christian church, whenever a hostile irruption, a famine,
or any other public calamity, had so far diminished the
revenues of an episcopal see, or a religious house, as to
render them insufficient for the support of its ordinary
head, the metropolitan recommended the pastoral charge
to some neighbouring ecclesiastic, who accepted the addi-
tional burden gratuitously, till a more favourable season
permitted a re-establishment of the suspended dignity.
It is easy to perceive how this charitable custom, at first
so praiseworthy, degenerated in times less pure into
abuse. The chief revenues of the cardinals, whom the
duties of the sacred college detained in permanent abode
at Rome, were at first derived from prebends or other
benefices without cure of souls ; but ambition and avarice
gradually fostered the desire of exalted station and over-
flowing coffers, and by the perversion of commendams,
the richest sees were often accumulated in plurality upon
ecclesiastics by whom they could never be visited. The
convenient license thus assumed by the court of Rome
was not likely to be long unimitated by secular princes ;
and, in France, the wealthiest benefices were abundantly
showered down upon those, whose connexion with the
blood royal, or whose cabinet duties as ministers of state,
attached them to the court ; even women were admitted
as Eveques Laiz, and either sold their bishoprics or pro-
vided substitutes, or Custodines as they were termed, to
perform the clerical offices for the least possible stipend.
Similar abuses prevailed among the inferior clergy ; and
BEZA. 377
dispensations were so readily accorded, that, unless in
rare instances, the population at large lived either without
any pastors at all, or with curates unworthy of the name.
Religion, therefore, was sought for in vain, and its place
was usurped by ignorance and superstition.
Although Beza was thus enabled to expend the revenues
of the Church in riotous living, a considerable fortune, to
which he succeeded on the death of an elder brother, made
him independent of outward circumstances, and enabled
him without inconvenience to quit the Gallican church,
when he determined to act on a resolution most probably
formed in the school-room of Melchior Wolmar, and of
which he was reminded by a serious illness. He had long
promised his mistress, Claudia Denosse, with whom he had
lived for four years, to marry her ; but continually deferred
the fulfilment of his promise, as it would have vacated his
ecclesiastical preferments. His conscience having been
pricked in his illness, he perceived that he must resign
either his mistress or his livings : he generously deter-
mined on the latter course, and his mistress became his
wife. No impediment now existing, he determined to
declare himself on the side of the reformation, and having
been married at Geneva, on the 24th of October, 1548,
he went to Tubingen to visit his old tutor Melchior
Wolmar. He then settled as Greek professor at Lau-
sanne, where he remained for ten years, and amused his
leisure moments by the publication of a tragi-comedy,
Le Sacrifice d'Abraham.
He now came under the influence of the master mind
of Calvin, to whom he frequently paid homage during his
vacations, and who immediately availed himself of the
poetical powers of his disciple. The calvinistic system has
rejected all the ancient forms of religion, but to it is to
be traced the origin of congregational psalmody. This
important part of Genevan worship was supplied from
France. Clement Marot, says Mr Smedley, who held a
post about the royal household of France, had hitherto
•2 i2
878 BEZA.
dedicated his facile powers of elegant versification to sub-
jects always light, frequently licentious. Notwithstanding
the freedom both of his life and writings, he early em-
braced the reformed religion ; was imprisoned for heresy
during the captivity of Francis I in Madrid, and twice
afterwards compelled to take refuge in Geneva to escape
similar arrest. It was about the year 1540 that, renounc-
ing his former themes, he put forth a metrical French
version of the first fifty psalms ; and in the dedication to
Francis I, after drawing a parallel between that king
and David, which, it may be thought, must have cost him
no slight struggle with conscience to compose, he very
strikingly exhibited the grotesque mixture of ethnical
and Christian images, at that time present to his fancy.
God, he says, was the Apollo who tuned David's harp ; the
Holy Spirit was his Calliope ; his two-forked Parnassus
was the summit of the crystalline heaven ; and his Hippo-
crene was the deep fountain of grace. But, alas ! the vein
of Marot flowed quite diversely from that of the Hebrew
poet-king, and when he ceased to sing of earthly love he
ceased also to sing melodiously. The model which he
furnished was faithfully copied, not many years after-
wards, by the framers of our English psalmody ; and the
merits of the French bard may be accurately estimated,
when we add, that, in his devotional strains, Marot was the
Apollo, the Calliope, the Parnassus, and the Hippocrene
of Sternhold and Hopkins. Nevertheless, bald as was
Marot's version, it was the work of a popular court-poet;
it was in rhyme easily adapted to the vaudevilles and
ballad-tunes of the day ; and the translator, perhaps, was
not a little surprised to hear every chamber of the palace,
and every street in Paris, re-echoing with his sacred
songs, frequently accompanied by the fiddle, soon after
their publication. As no attempt was made to introduce
them into the ritual of the Church, the Sorbonne approved
their orthodoxy, and thus unwittingly gave additional
keenness to a weapon soon to be turned against them-
selves.
BEZA. 379
Calvin had banished the ancient ecclesiastical music,
and it is probable that he soon perceived the neces-
sity of a substitute, which might impart some warmth
to the general frigidity of his service. Mar